Hoshi Yumemiru: A Dream of Stars
by KingAramis17
Summary: This is basically a reinterpretation of the FFX plot. I have merged my own fantasy created world in peoples to elevate what was the video game into a much grander theme and story of theocratic corruption and following the dreams of your heart.
1. Chapter 1: FarFlung

Far-flung: Chapter 1

_"Everybody's looking for that something  
one thing that makes it all complete" _

Born from the jagged peaks some thousand leagues far-flung, the wind blew east with an icy chill unusual to July. The blustery weather crossed over the hilly pastures of the Oviedo Estate and plastered the pink-garmented figure atop the rocky promontory. She was Michelle Inures Oviedo, the heir to the ruling Countess of Emelan, standing there unshaken by the constant bombardment of an early winter's gusts.

She stood equal to most men in her white knee-reaching boots that showed wear from constant use. Her light-skinned body was muscled but still effeminate with delicate curves and her eyes were a smoldering gray as sharp as the rapier hankering at her waist. She wore her blonde hair gathered up in a pink ribbon, twisting down in a long ponytail, and assembled with a pink button up dress. A rose-shaped brooch of ivory was pinned between her high breasts, keeping the flowing alabaster cape in place behind her. She was a beautiful creature in all rites, even whilst maturing in such an uncanny, windblown climate.

Gusts of wind ruffled her clothes and hair.

When Michelle opened her eyes, the entire world closed in on her, along with the brocaded fringes of the pink parasol she held over her eyes. Emelan was beautiful; a flowing tapestry of tranquility, a manifestation of loveliness to compliment her own attractiveness. She drank it all in and veered her eyes to glimpse it all.

She remained a few moments, then took a final glance at the horizon and sighed somberly to herself at the last look. But she did not walk five steps when behind her the air rippled, shimmered, and then solidified into a young man who dropped backward onto the earth.

The girl spun about quickly at the deviance in sound from his fall, feeling for the handle of the sheathed rapier. Her face twisted briefly in incredulity as she stared down at a young boy lying upon the earth. He was no taller than she was though perhaps a few years younger. She could not make out a face of anyone she knew, but his skin and hair were fair just as her own. Both were common characteristics of the Emelanese but his clothing was outlandish. He wore all green, except for the intricate gold spirals and designs inlaid and emblemized on his doublet, short shirtsleeves, and short. None of his distinctiveness, the green, the designs, was regular to the Emelanese fashion.

Michelle ambled directly over him for a better look. His face was youthful and proportioned, with everything well placed and firmly set. She noticed he was rather good-looking, even though she could not see his eyes. As she admired the regal silver-leaved garland circling his forehead, she only concluded that maybe he was of some importance or background of opulence.

The boy roused and arched his back, letting out a low groan. His face crinkled and his eyelids opened revealing to Michelle intense green eyes. Further confirming he was a very handsome boy.

She did not even know they were starring at each other, even though he lay there piercing her with those magnificent emeralds. For a long moment, she stared down at him, captivated. Her heart pounded wildly and she could not breathe at proper intervals. Finally, after catching her breath, she smiled at him and he did the same.

Just that simple smile and Michelle's knees went weak and her bare neck began to tremble. It was foolish how he was making her feel this way.

Finally, after an eerie silence, Michelle sputtered her first words to him. "Hullo," she said shifting her hands uneasily behind her back. "I think you're cute." An impulse of course.

The boy gave a warm chuckle, a modest one, and Michelle realized what she had just said. She gasped and her mouth fell open, feeling the warmth overrun her face as it flushed. She was mortified and unable to surmise anything to recant her graceless remark.

"It's alright," he said. His warm voice, although not yet at full maturity, turned her into paste. "I mean you're cute too," he confided.

Michelle's skin tingled and became redder. She smiled awkwardly and held out her hand for him to get up. He accepted and stood to be at least an inch taller.

Pensively he observed the surrounding with his beautiful eyes, instinctively gathering the new world around him. He stemmed his concentration for a few seconds before he returned his gaze to Michelle. "I'm Aramis Viladriel by the way. Or Ari is just as well."

Michelle accepted his salutation of goodwill. "My name is Michelle; I am the daughter of Countess Oviedo." She gave a polite obeisance of acquaintance while trying to remain calm

"I hope you don't mind telling me where I am." His warm tone became grave. "I don't know how I ended up in this place, so I'd be most obliged if you'd be of some assistance. I cannot be delayed for too long, I need to warn my Emperor of what's going to happen." He averted his gaze again to look at the landscape. "I am sure my disappearance has already caused some alarm. I am a very valuable Prince."

Michelle narrowed her eyes on the boy, not certain if he was serious. "A Prince you say?"

"Uh-huh. I am the nephew of the Emperor Isolden. I was placed as Regent of the outlying Imperial territories in Sindar," he confirmed. "My home was invaded and I was captured aboard the Juraian vessel _Consecrating Fist _along with my Uncle Miko. As the battle culminated, an Imperial agent named Quatre Relner saved me. But what happens after that I cannot really figure out. I think I was sucked into a vortex of some sort, a mass hyperspace shadow caused by the ship's attempt to flee into space when emergency forces arrived. You must assist me. The gravity of this situation has reached insurmountable levels. I need to at least reach a comm. relay to warn the Emperor about a Juraian Invasion."

"Emperor Isolden…Sindar?" Michelle looked at him perplexed, but then she remembered her father's lessons concerning the different Galactic Kingdoms. Her eyes widened. "You're an Erressian!"

Neither Elves nor Men, the proud Tol Erressians only differed subtly with their green eyes, fair skin and hair, and highly ornate green clothing. Now with the ban against interstellar crafts that once kept the many Galactic Kingdoms in unity, the distant Empire has become only an enigma to worlds like Emelan. To meet one was a rare chance, and her encounter with the Tol Erressian prince excited Michelle.

Nevertheless, some things the boy was saying did not entirely make sense. Emperor Isolden no longer lived, and Sindar was destroyed a thousand years ago during his rule. The talk about space and vessels and Juraian invasions also complimented the fact that the boy may just be delusional. "I do not doubt you're a Tol Erressian or a prince, but what you say is outrageous," she said to him.

"Outrageous? What's that supposed to mean?"

"How old are you?"

"That's a funny question. I turned sixteen in April."

"Sindar has been in ruins for one-thousand years," she made clear. "Isolden, he no longer rules the Empire."

"What do you mean, a thousand years ago? But I saw the Juraians attack Sindar! You're saying that happened a thousand years ago? Of course not!"

"It's true," she said simply.

Aramis became silent and again stemmed into his concentration. He did not want to believe her but after a time, the boy asked, "What do you know about the one called Sin?"

The girl stilled for a moment at the mention of the terrible evil. It was not customary to speak its name in the open. She turned her eyes back over the promontory.

Aramis noticed her face pale.

"Sin is the punishment for crimes humanity has committed," she replied, clenching her rapier and lowering her parasol over her eyes more. "For one-thousand years it has scourged the Galaxy to bring perennial ruin."

"Michelle I remember that I met with Sin. I believe it hurtled me here when it attacked the Juraian fleet."

She sighed, "You just plopped out of nowhere. It's somewhat curious to bring you all the way to Emelan. But an encounter with Sin means you've fallen under the influence of its toxin. That's why you believe you're from Sindar."

"Emelan? You mean Kolkis."

"We no longer go by that name," Michelle retorted. "As our verification to the Goddess' demands we have abandoned our ancient namesake that reminds us of the evil machines. As for the tox-"

"Wait. What? Evil machines?" The questions began to stack up in Ari's mind. "Could you explain what exactly happened? And also," he continued, "I'm _not_ under the influence of anything. I'm perfectly sound Lady Michelle."

"Whatever" she said, unconvinced. "When you're near Sin, it sort of messes with your mind. It makes you think irrationally. Your senses should come soon enough."

The girl went on to explain about the coming of Sin:

"A long time ago, there were many cities in Arendia. Grand cities that covered entire planets, with _Machina_--machines--to run them and even some that flew through space. People played all day and let the _Machina_ do the work, completely forgetting about their devotion to our Goddess. Then, well, look. Sin came, and destroyed the _Machina_ cities with Sindar along with them. It is all a punishment from the Goddess until the people make the Atonement for their crimes."

"Gee." He soon understood that Sin did not only throw him across the galaxy, but also through the frontier of time. One-thousand years actually.

"Oh, and one thing. Don't tell anyone you're from Sindar, okay?" Michelle sincerely advised. "The Valkyries (they're leaders of the Church Assimilation that controls the Galaxy), say it's a holy place. You might upset someone."

Ari only nodded. He didn't bother to argue about him being from Sindar to Michelle anymore. It was best just to go along with it, he figured.

The two quickly warmed up to one another and became lost in a following conversation, sitting side by side at the edge of the overlook. They talked about many things, making themselves hoarse all the while the minutes skated away as the two became entranced with each other's words.

The sun rolled westward across the sky as the talk seemed to last forever. The blustery, cold morning that Michelle had come out to was now a cheerful sunny day more suitable for the summer. The coming of the boy, and the brightening of the future-countess' mood all seemed to have an effect on the weather. The sky was azure with clouds of white lambs fleeting across within the Sun's contented rays. Everything was calm, just perfect for the two.

At about three, Michelle finally noticed how time had unavoidably slipped by.

"Aramis?" she asked in a thoughtful tone.

For some reason the sound of hearing his name, slipping off her tongue made him feel cold. There seemed to be a desire he did not hear before in it that made him feel shivery.

Aramis smiled faintly. "Yes?"

"Would you like to come home with me?"

Ari gulped down nervously, "For what?" he asked cautiously before agreeing to anything.

"It should be dinner very soon, and I'm sure you're hungry." She paused. "I've already missed breakfast and lunch. I don't believe my family would approve of me gone, but they always love a guest."

It was true. Ari had not eaten since the day before. "Yes, that would be nice. Not a bad idea at all." He smiled standing up, to grasp her dainty gloved hand.

They walked through a lovely afternoon, along the green plains of the Estate. Michelle, with her white cape billowing behind her and parasol overhead, led Ari through an orchard of unusually shaped trees with blue shriveled fruit. _Emiram_ was what she called them, but they were not edible in their current condition.

Michelle stopped at a large statue of a winged woman at the edge of the orchard. Ari eyed her as she performed a curious gesture; shaping her right forearm over left forearm, fingers spread out, hands curved in the shape of a circle, and bowed to the effigy.

"Praise to the Mighty goddess and her faithful messengers. For without their guidance, the galaxy would be lost to Sin," she said softly. When she saw Ari did not pay the same homage, she eyed him, narrowing her eyes, but then bit back her response. _The poison. He doesn't remember. _She murmured a benediction for him

Ari looked at the statue. It was of a Valkyrie, rigid and proud, an authentication to the Creator's love of perfection. Her face was sullen but beautiful. There came from it came an unusual impression, one of undaunted strength and integrity and at the same time a concealed wickedness that Ari could not grasp. He eyed it for many moments mulling over what Michelle had told him this afternoon. It was hard to believe that the once mere clergywomen of the Galaxy had replaced the Ruling Senate government he knew altogether.

"Ari, we should leave now," Michelle said quietly

"Yeah, let's go now."

As the sun was going down, they reached the Oviedo Estate. Michelle gave instructions to a liveried and very hairy old servant to inform her uncle of her arrival. She also gave orders to stow her precious parasol in the proper place. The rapier, she told Ari, only left her side when in use. The servant bowed politely, and complied with a "Yes milady" before scurrying off.

"Ari," Michelle whispered in an unusually grave manner as they entered the marbled foyer. "I know this is probably a retch for a prince. You're palace is probably hundredfold of this"

"More like a thousand fold" he replied jokingly. "But it's better then nothing."

Michelle grinned at him. "Just remember, nothing about you being from the past at the dinner table."

The Oviedo household, from an ordinary perspective, was indeed grand. The interior was even more opulent than the stone-hewn exterior. All the furnishings were spun in the finest brocade of Emelan. Deep purples, although a truly hideous color to an Erressian, blues and other dark tones all embroidered with lavish designs.

Michelle tucked her hand in the crook of Ari's arm, and led him to the dining room. Rare woods, deftly carved, paneled its vast walls. The ceiling was high and spacious and the floors were of squared black and white marble that resembled a giant chessboard. A marvelous balloon-cut chandelier hung over the nacreous stone table, already meticulously set by a contingent of serving staff.

"Michelle!" A breathy voice suddenly called from behind them.

The two turned around and saw the buxom silhouette of Lady Deva Ramcrest framed in the enameled wood doorway.

She snapped her fingers, ending in a wide smile. "What do we have here?" She said pointing to Ari across the way. Her flowing black dress of satin organza rustled as she flounced her way to the young prince.

"It's not common to see Michelle bring anyone home for dinner. Especially a boyfriend," she purred from behind her spread fan. She held out her other hand to him and gave him a come-hither expression. "Lady Deva Ramcrest young lord, sister of Countess Oviedo"

Aramis accepted the greeting and bowed politely "Prince Aramis Viladriel milady."

"Prince Aramis Viladriel," she echoed in a musing tone, passing a scrutinizing glance over the boy from behind her fan. "That sounds exquisite." She nearly squealed in rapture. "But you're not from around here. Please my lord, do tell me of your business in Emelan. Are you an emissary?"

Aramis' gaze was fixed at the almost non-existent bodice on Lady Ramcrest's gown. The Lady stood taller then he, leaving Ari's probing eyes at the same level as her bursting cleavage. Squeezed and pressed up behind the sparse black fabric, her splendid globes of breast burgeoned with a radiance that the young prince could not help but stare at.

Knowing of her triumph over the blonde youth, Deva coyly lowered her lashes and stroked at the Prince's sleeves. "My lord?"

Stirred, he looked at her with a blank expression, and then he smiled at the Lady. Her face was flawless and looked alabaster with the darkened tones she wore. Deva continued to ogle at him from behind the fan, coaxing him with lackluster eyes, of the same hew as her fan, purple.

There was a lump in his throat; he could not seem to give a response to the older woman. The prince had always been awkward around the female gender, to say the least.

"My lord, you're starring at me."

Ari gave a toothy grin and his shoulders seamed to tense. "Oh I'm very sorry. It's just that-"

"I'm stunningly gorgeous. Aren't I?" she teased.

Ari smirked uncomfortably, unable to reply. He shifted uneasily as Deva continued to rub his shoulder.

Michelle rolled her eyes in disgust. "He's sixteen Deva, he's not interested."

Deva's jaw dropped at her niece's brazen then pinned her with a patronizing gaze. Then she smiled and shrugged as if she hardly bothered her. She shook her long midnight tresses, covering the right side of her face, then snaked her free hand onto Ari's neck.

"It's his decision to decide whether or not he's interested."

Ari looked askance at the Lady's boldness.

"Deva, just leave us alone please," Michelle said simply

Lady Ramcrest scoffed, "You have some nerve! I was only trying to be hospitable to our guest. Besides, I live here as well and it is almost dinner. I'll stay here if I want." Deva shot a disparaging glance at her niece. "Think of me anyway you would like, but I wasn't the one gallivanting around while your mother died of her sickness."

"What?" Michelle's world screeched to a grinding halt at her aunt's words. "'Died?' How! B-but she was fine this morning! Oh my god no…you're a liar Deva!"

"It's the truth. I don't look it, but I wear the mourning of my sister's death. I'm not the type that drowns in her sorrow." She turned away from Michelle. "Her dying words were to tell you she loved you."

Michelle's heart pounded rapidly. Her mother was fine this morning, she recalled checking up on her before leaving the estate. She was walking around the estate and she was beating her! What Deva said couldn't be true.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" her voice was stifled. She tried to remain calm and collected, blinking rabidly to hold in her tears. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you knew. I told the servants to tell you, I guess some don't know yet" she paused. "You never did care much for your mother. I thought maybe it didn't faze you"

Deva was wrong. Even with the constant drama the mother and daughter each put upon one another, there was a bond between them. It was not always apparent, but the two envied at the other's way of carrying themselves. Michelle longed for the acceptance her mother knew all to well, while her mother longed for the adventure and freedom Michelle was adapted to.

Though there was sometimes disparity between the two and their very different worlds, they would always love one another.

Ari watched as confusion and disbelief invaded Michelle's countenance. He wanted so much to help her, but there was nothing in his power. He bit down on his lip when it crossed his mind that his own Uncle was dead now. He remembered seeing the Juraian Captain slew him in front of him, the fell axe swiped across his torso, killing poor Uncle Miko before falling to the floor.

A twinge of sadness overtook the young prince.

It wasn't only his Uncle he realized. Everyone he knew or loved was probably dead. His entire world was gone and this new one didn't seem at all sentimental to the emotions of the people. He felt the sorrow course through his body.

Michelle slumped down to the floor onto her knees. She looked up at Ari, her tormented gray eyes meeting his green ones. Michelle stared at him for no inherent reason, not for solace or anything of that manner. She stared at him intensely for what seemed to be an eternity. Even though her gaze seemed to pierce right through him and send shivers down his spine, all was well.

Ari fell abruptly to his knees too, right beside the girl he'd met this afternoon. For once, the two very different people shared something. They both carried the burden of a life that had left them behind, to wallow in their mourning.

The saddened older girl placed her hand onto his and leaned her head over onto Ari's shoulder. He didn't mind.

Michelle shut her eyes, but even in darkness, the world still seemed to whirl around her. It twirled and roared like a maelstrom within her mind. All her senses were gone; nothing had any logic anymore. What would she do? She didn't want to cry.

"I won't," she said to herself, "I won't, I won't. Tears can't do anything!" There was no force in the world that could bring her mother from the dead.

But she only tried in vain, as rivulets cascaded down her cheeks without any cognizant thought.

Now she was alone, truly without anyone to turn to. Except for Ari.

"All the things I see, they are different from how I had imagined they would. I never knew I'd be alone," she whispered into his ear. "What do I do now?"

"Shouldn't you see her?" Ari asked.

"I would like to, but-" She stopped; her words became lost as a thought wafted into her mind. Inconspicuously she moved her left hand around the cool handle of her rapier. She squeezed onto the steel grip firmly. It would have been so easy just to run her through with it and rid herself of her misery, but then again, it wouldn't bring back the life she'd lost. If she saw her mother, lifeless and ashen gray, it would only cause her more distress. If only she hadn't left-

"Milady, Milady!" A servant called out running into the dining room.

Michelle started at the hollering servant and scrambled up from her knees while bowling poor Ari over in the process. It was the same liveried servant she'd given her parasol to when she'd arrived at the estate. He seemed out of breath, his clothing was disheveled, and his face was very pallid. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath before he spoke.

"What is it servant?" Deva demanded. "Hurry and tell us!"

"Lady Ramcrest, Lady Michelle," he glanced at both of the women then wiped the sweat from his forehead before continuing. "Sinspawn were sighted at the gorge. They're heading this way!" His face darkened and then his pupils dilated. "M-milady I-" The servant made a choking sound.

The telltale steel tip of a blade protruded from his heart.

"Oh my god…" Michelle gasped falteringly, not at the skewered servant, but at what wielded the sword from behind. She stepped back, nearly tripping over Ari's sprawled legs.

Still recovering from being bowled over by Michelle, Ari caught a glimpse of the menacing figure behind a servant. Instinctively, the prince clambered to his proper stance, and bounded back behind Michelle.

"Way to be a gentleman Ari," Michelle said drably, still fronting nervously at the figure.

Whatever it was, it towered even over Deva by several feet. It raised its slender-bladed sword, longer than Michelle was tall, and flung the ill-fated servant like a rag-doll off it across the room. Now Michelle could see fully what had intruded on her household. Its rigid face vaguely resembled that of a human but was a dark copper in complexion, with a pair of great curving spikes extending from above long, pointed ears. The nose was relatively human, but its eyes were little more then slits set under bony ridge-like eyebrows. Its hair was long, thick and black, almost as lengthy as its massive sword. The creature's entire body was taut and muscular, three times the width of Ari, and encased in segmented black armor that secreted a rancid-smelling ichor from each segment. The creature's vambraces and rerebraces were richly garlanded in ivy-pattern, and spikes similar to its horns protruded from each. On its opposite arm was a large spiked buckler emblemized with what looked like a dragonfly. The entire cataphract, thick and overlapping, would serve its purpose, and in its own right was a capable weapon. However, most terrifying were the bat like wings that nearly filled the entire room when spread wide. It started at the three smaller figures, pacing slowly toward the Lady Ramcrest in a confident march with its blade held menacingly aloft.

"Deva what are you doing!" Michelle shouted at her Aunt. "Get back now!"

Deva, however, just stood transfixed only a few paces from the creature. But her steadfastness was not from fright but from defiance. She knew all to well what was in front of her, and possibly a way of ridding it.

The figure started ather with the long sword, raising it high over its head to deliver a deadly blow on the unwavering woman.

"Michelle stay back!" Deva cried noticing her niece unsheathe her rapier. "Your sword has no use here!"

Deva kept her footing and she stood her complete height, rigid and erect with her left arm raised. Ari noticed that Deva was much taller than he had realized before. She seemed to have changed with the altering of circumstances. She appeared less oversexed and from the flare in her eyes and self-assured visage a great and powerful woman.

The figure lunged forward with a snarl but Deva uttered a series of words from under her breath. She sent it reeling backwards, howling in its futility with a brilliant, with a sudden burst of white radiance from her body. In a crash of metal upon marble, the hefty figure lay unmoving on the dining-room floor.

Ari looked nervously, peering from behind Michelle's shoulder. "Is it dead?"

"We must leave at once." Deva eyed suspiciously at the fallen figure for any traces of movement, and then turned to face the adolescents. "It's stunned with an incantation, but it won't last long. We hurry to the gully."

"But there are Sinspawn!" Michelle cried. "That means Sin is near!"

Deva was on the verge of replying when she became aware of horrid hissing and lumbering over furniture, not from the stunned figure, but coming elsewhere in the house. She turned around at the sound of a crashing urn. 

"We must leave now," she said, and without any further talk, she strode past the two youths with supercilious gait.

The crashing of vases and upheaval of furniture continued. "A most convincing idea," Ari agreed, and followed behind her (clutching securely onto Michelle's wrist).

The three figures escaped out through the back door into the grayness of the night after Michelle recovered her precious parasol. Michelle closed the heavy oaken door silently behind her not to alert anyone or anything of their departure and stealthily followed behind her quick pacing aunt. It was not particularly dark, but a fog had crept in over the estate during the time since Ari and her arrival. Deva led her younger companions through an open heathery moor with only the pale silver of the moon shining through the overcast as their light. To Michelle's surprise, Deva outran her, even in a gown clearly not intended for countryside traveling.

Ari, who was the most unfamiliar to this terrain and running in general, trudged slowly at the heels of Michelle. He plodded unorthodoxly and raucously through the peaty soil, and at times tripped over the bracken or lumps of moss. Although he did not complain aloud, his distress was apparent in the many whimpers or cries he made when his feet sank into the earth or when he stumbled over in the darkness. After some time Michelle was kind enough to slow down and run (if that's what you called what the boy was doing, tripping and panting and bowling) beside him. She didn't mind holding his hand, and he didn't complain at all, but by the look he made when she took hold, it obviously made him feel less of a man.

Deva kept ahead of her companions by many yards, but stayed within visibility to them. Deva's involvement in debauchery and her good terms with nearly every man in the region disgusted Michelle but she witnessed a great deal of change within her aunt, as if she were a different woman altogether. She noted her bravery and ability to cast down the terrible creature, and now the ominous silver glow emanating from the woman like a halo of moonlight. It was very queer and conduced to her Aunt's growing mystery. Exactly what Deva was planning to do at the gully was a mystery to the girl.

Into the night, they followed Deva across the vast champaign of the eastern Oviedo Estate. No one talked, though there were many questions to be asked, and there wasn't a sound to be heard (except that of their strides and from Ari's discomfort), any night birds, and not even the uttering of the wind.

The ground became springier and more manageable to run later on and Ari adjusted to the better earth with proper legging. He need not hold onto Michelle's hand any more and asked her to let loose, and she complied with an assured smile and left him to his own. He still was the slowest runner. Ari panted and mopped his forehead a lot, but kept behind Michelle steadily. The prince wondered why he hadn't collapsed in exhaustion yet; if he'd been back at home, he'd surely have given up running at the first twinge of tiredness. Maybe this adventure, which he began to call it, would do him some good. Life as a prince may be lavishly comfortable, but at times very deadening and lonesome, as the duties of royalty usually embezzle time for friendships. Adventures such as these usually were full of thrill that can't be found in the prosaic daily life and fostered wonderful friendships between the ones taking part in them. He'd read about them many times but never expected to actually take part in one.

Several hours later, and remarkably many miles journeyed, the landscape took a dramatic change. The fog had nearly lifted, except for a misty sheen that still mingled close to the earth, and the moor sloped upward and leveled off into an incredibly grim land of cliffs and chasms and deep gorges. Under the light of the full moon, it was a looming land that Ari and even Michelle didn't wish to travel. Fortunately, Deva only willed to bring them to the nearest gorge.

It took some time to climb up the slope and at last reached a rocky precipice extending over the chasm. Michelle and Ari scrambled tiredly behind the ever-invigorated aunt onto it and waited for her instructions.

Ari peered over into the chasm that plunged sullenly into black depths unknown to him. He stared down into it then thought that perhaps stepping a few feet from the edge would be wise. He examined the landscape again but didn't see any Sinspawn, whatever they were, but Michelle assured him that they were here.

No one dared speak a word to Deva who was busily reciting incantations and working her conjuring at the farthest edge of the precipice. Then she began waving her hands wildly in curious motions as if she was weaving and spinning some invisible strands of thread. Her incantations built into a dramatic crescendo of an unknown language, resonant, strong, and echoing.

Ari swore that some of the words Deva recited were Tol Erressian but they were vaguely familiar. Then he noticed something about the woman's ears that he hadn't seen before. Against the light of the moon, he could see that her ears pointed at the tops. Michelle's ears were normal like his. Then Ari began to list in his mind all the differences between Michelle and her aunt. Based on what Michelle had told him, Emelanese were blonde-haired and grey-eyed, Deva was black-haired and purple-eyed. Michelle was lanky and wispy-looking, while Deva was taller still but was bustier and had a fuller frame. In truth, Deva looked nothing like her niece, but she _was _the sister of the Emelanese countess.

Deva continued her sorcery but suddenly stopped at a noise neither Ari nor Michelle caught. She ambled her way past them and down off the precipice without dislodging a single stone. She moved cautiously to the slope over the moorlands with the furtiveness of any assassin.

Deva saw the light of several torches on the moorland and heard stirring and movement from down on the plain. Deva ducked behind a jagged rock and instructed her niece and the prince to stay out of sight as well.

Many men marched toward the slope in a column several dozen men long and five wide. In the night, their glimmering white armor and silver crested helms were very easy to spot and carried long pikes and bas-relieved pavises.

"Church Knights," Michelle whispered, "They'll lure out and kill those dreadful Sinspawn yet."

"The Sinspawn maybe, but Sin will slaughter them," Deva minimally retorted, "Besides, they're not after the Sinspawn"

"What do you mean?"

"Look there." Deva pointed up at the moon, and Michelle gasped at what she saw there: the same bat winged figure, black against the moon.

"Deva I don't understand. Why are the knights not attacking it, its presence is rather obvious"

"As valiant as the Church Knights may be, their only will is to serve their master-which it happens to be," Deva told her. "We need keep out of sight and reach safety immediately"

Ari looked out over the canyons with a scowl. "Deva, I don't think we'll make it that far with the cliffs and chasms and everything," he said.

The woman gave a chuckle, "I don't intend on making you poor children climb. Michelle-" she began but stopped to change her mind. "That will take too much time; it will be upon us by then." She looked upon the Prince vacantly standing in the open, "Ari where is the sword"

"What sword?"

"_Omeigodis_! _The sword that Quatre gave you_, the one that belonged to your father!" She appeared irritated. "We haven't much time tell me where it is."

Ari thought for a moment and then murmured something in Tol Erressian that Deva could not understand, and then he looked at her and then smirked stupidly. "I have no idea...but how do you know about Quatre, did Michelle tell you?"

"Your coming to here is no chance encounter Ari," the woman said. "Quatre intended to throw you into the rift Sin created and you ended up here just as anticipated. You were destined to meet with Michelle. You both play an important part in a prophecy of Deliverance. The sword is not needed at the moment, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't seek it still."

"Deva, Ari's been under the influence of Sin, he's not really from the past," Michelle corrected.

"Nonsense girl. You'll learn more when you depart."

"Umm, err, how are we to do that" Ari asked incredulously.

"I am sending you to Ether where you'll meet an Elven summoner about to depart on her Pilgrimage," she explained. "You will accompany her. Now go leap into the gorge. Don't hesitate, you'll be fine"

Michelle and Ari took some time to assimilate the information. Then without a word, stepped out from behind the rock's safety and walked toward the edge of the precipice hesitantly and tentatively, fearing that maybe Deva was playing a nasty joke and they would both fall to their deaths.

The girl's eyes glazed over the bottomless pit and her stomach lurched. She grasped Ari's arm not to console him, but herself. For the first time in her life, she felt afraid. She turned to him and he gave a reassuring smile that said "Don't worry, it'll be fine" all over it. Then she swerved around to see that Deva was not coming with her.

"I cannot child," the woman said, instantaneously reading the words on her niece's expression. "We'll meet in a later time when you've become wiser about all this mess. I know you'll stay strong and my blessings go with you both. Keep that rapier and parasol close, don't ever lose them, and don't ever lose sight of the path you follow even when the entire world seems to be working against you." She smiled; something Deva had never done before for her and it lifted Michelle's spirit. "Go now"

Michelle nodded and turned around. She swallowed hard, clenched her parasol, and tightened her grip around Ari's hand and they stepped to the edge preparing to leap.

There was a terrible screech, Michelle knew that the bat-figure had spotted them, and then there came the clanking of armored Knights running up the slope to catch them.

"Now is the time for dreams to collide with reality," she heard her aunt say. "Now is the time for deliverance and salvation. Now is the time to write your stories children. Go now and listen to your heart when it calls to you."

Michelle did not squander anymore time and dove headlong into the gorge, bracing tightly to Ari's hand, into the black depths below.


	2. Chapter 2: Soul of a Summoner

Chapter 2: Soul of a Summoner

_"Who can deny the joy it brings  
when you find that special thing?"_

On a small island far from the Etherian mainland, foamless waves treaded back and forth with composure over the beach. Overhead in the cloudless blue sky, gulls slid slowly up and down the wind as they searched the retreating waves for morsels. Amid the white tender rays of the young star Earrinel, two figures sat on a boulder extending into a jetty over the ocean.

"When do think she'll be out?" Vanna asked anxiously about her friend Lynelle.

The other, Ross Gippal, didn't hear his companion because he was clearly goggling at inappropriate parts of the girl.

Vanna understood this at once when she didn't obtain a desired response. The seventeen year old was an attractive blonde mermaid with scarcely any clothing on her nubile torso. Here away from her aquatic home world Corsa, she learned to put up with the constant advances of men.

She liked attention but sometimes the starring was ridiculous, especially from close friends like Ross. Vanna shook her head in exasperation and hopped off the boulder they were sitting on and plunged into the clear blue sea without saying a word.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Vanna where are you going?" Ross tried to call her back in his most innocent of tones but failed. She was already swimming away. It would do no use to swim after her.

Vanna treaded the waves with ease, using very little energy at all. If she wanted, she could very well reach the mainland faster then any ship.

Maybe twenty yards away she became aware of something bobbing in the swell. Being a very curious young woman, Vanna speedily swam over to whatever it was. She discovered it was a young boy and without much thought took hold of him, making sure to keep his head over the water, and began to make her way back to the beach.

When she brought the boy to shore a few moments later, she noticed Ross chatting with a girl holding a parasol and wearing all pink. Her face was bleak and it seamed that Landon wasn't really paying attention to what she was ranting.

Vanna sighed to herself and heaved the boy onto a shoal. She thumbed the blue crystal hanging from a silver chain around her neck, and then muttered something under her breath. The water around her began to shimmer, and what was formerly meant for swimming, materialized into a pair of legs and short calico skirt. She emerged from the water, absent-mindedly roping her long blonde hair and squeezing the water out.

Ross watched inattentively as his friend started at the girl in pink.

"Uh hello, can I help you?" Vanna said.

The pinked girl turned to her, realizing that the Juraian would not offer any relief. In her grey eyes, Vanna could perceive the twinge of panic contained by them.

"I've lost a friend, have you seen him?" She queried desperately at Vanna, "He's really important to me."

"Oh," it was an easy question, she pointed some length away back at the shoal where she'd done her transformation. There lay the boy she hoped the newcomer was looking for. "You mean-"

In a sudden twist of her parasol, that almost hit Vanna, the pink girl was by the side of the rescued boy before the Corsan could finish her sentence. _Looks like he's the one._ With a gesture telling Ross to follow, that he likewise obeyed, Vanna, mostly out of curiosity than concern, came up beside the lying boy as well.

_------ _

He awoke on white sand, listening to the sounds of ocean waves, and laying beneath the light of a tender young sun, quite different from the star at Sindar. He accepted the notion that the _Andrew Wong_ may have crashed onto a nearby planet because he was on a world unbeknownst to him. At least he was able to breathe. There were far too many words inhospitable to humans. He was lucky to end up somewhere where the basic needs to live were fulfilled.

He lay there comfortably on the soft sand remembering the dream about him visiting Emelan and the girl in pink, Michelle, before the screaming siren of comprehension went off in his mind that he was choking—on water. His eyes burst open, Aramis sputtered some seawater from his mouth, and then his face furrowed at the beaming figures over him. They formed a semi-circle around him, with Michelle shaping the center. A dismal expression was ambient on her face. Then it crumpled and tears began to trickle down her cheeks. She looked at Ari as if pleading something. He sat up, "What's wrong Michelle?"

Her lips parted, but nothing came out. She leaned over him, her arms round him, murmuring something that sounded pained. In her embrace, Ari suddenly became fearful and his eyes began to water as well. "Michelle, just tell me," he stammered.

"It's gone Ari," she cried, pulling him closer. "Deva, she saved us."

Michelle was so ingenuous to her obvious empathy for him. she was hurting inside, and he was her only comfort. "Don't leave me Ari," she almost cried. Maybe this new world wasn't such a great place after all, everything, even the faces on the other two figures present, one a beautiful Corsan maiden, and the other a young Juraian, seamed a little grim.

Ari hadn't uttered a single word when a bright light caught his eyes, emerging from the forest behind the beach. The Corsan turned around and Michelle let go to see what it was. She sauntered some distance, but turned back around when she found Ari was still sitting on the sand.

"Do you know where we are?" The bravado had returned to her voice almost as soon as it had left.

Ari shrugged; there were Corsans here, or at least _a Corsan_--and lots of water when he looked around. "Corsa probably."

_"_No. We're on an Elven home world, not Corsa." The Corsan spoke at them, pointing at a contingent of light infested Elves emerging from the forest.

Deva really did send them to Ether. Never in his life did Ari see a more colorful bunch of people, and he meant that literally, when he looked at the motley band of Elves. Garbed in white-lavender smocks and domed hats bearing the dragonfly symbol, their skin colors ranged from bright red, light purple, to a dark brown or pale grey.

The purple-skinned female, an Ison, as they were universally called in the common _Westril_ speech, stepped forward to greet Vanna.

"Lady Guardian," she beckoned.

The Corsan replied with a bow. "Your Grace."

"The Summoner has nearly refined her rod within the cloister confines," she spoke. "Your presence is mandatory, Guardians." Her gaze turned to Ari and Michelle. "Welcome to Besaid Island. You are both expected."

------

Vanna hurried across the meandering stream, leaping from one rock to another, with the precise fashion and finesse of the Elves that she'd lived alongside for the past ten years. Her feet were light as she crossed the stream to enter the tropic jungle of the island. The girl was far ahead of her new companions, Michelle and Ari. She darted quickly through the dense overgrowth, occasionally brushing against some extended vegetation out onto the path. For a seldom-used route, it was miraculously clean of fallen leaves.

"Vanna!" Ari's diminutive voice resonated from back at the stream, "You're supposed to _lead us_ to the village! Wait up!"

She only giggled to herself. "C'mon! Hurry up!" She could hear him whimper irritably in the distance as a reply.

She persistently ran down the path, needing to breathe only trifle amounts of the jungle air. Her passion for running started out as an odd habit of resisting advances of Elven men that eventually formed into one of her favorite pastimes, next to swimming of course.

Her sharp Corsan ears caught her companions' entrance into the forest of Besaid--trailing behind at almost one-hundred meters! Vanna giggled at how considerable her lead was over them. She thought for a moment, slowing shortly, of going back, all the way, to be considerate to Aramis and Michelle, and just walk the path with them. However, she quickly dismissed the notion from her mind and quickened her pace.

About her, the trees dripped the rain from last night's drizzle, onto the fern fronds and cycads already burdened by crystal drops of morning dew. The jungle air was cool and livened by the essence of life. During the summertime, the blossoms were flourishing at full bloom, turning the normally green vibrancy into a myriad of colors. Bright hued flowers, of all variety, vibrant yellows and oranges, to more subtle indigos and violets, adorned the undergrowth, challenging the dimness caused by the canopy of trees. Their alluring fragrances drifted on the air's breath. Less wholesome luminous-green mushroom fungi rooted parasitically on the trunks of trees, while a ginger-colored variation stair-stepped on others.

Vanna followed the gravel path that snaked through the forested hills of Besaid's interior until its winding descent spilled her out onto the fine sanded beach on the island's western shore. She walked barefoot into the light of the sun and the blue sea in the distance. She crossed the light soft sand of the beach toward the ocean until she was ankle deep in the warm water. She closed her eyes, letting the young star's tender rays warm her body and the fanfare of the waves alleviate her tired body.

A rustling in the undergrowth caught her ear. She turned to see Michelle, with the pink parasol still over her, and Aramis holding her hand. He scuttled clumsily through the shrubbery. He was in disarray by the look on his face.

"Geez, you run too fast!" Aramis said in a small, almost unmanly, shrill voice.

Vanna giggled. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" She smiled, pointing across the way, westward at the picturesque village of Besaid, across from them.

------

Besaid was a splendor of both natural and man-made (or Elven-made) assemblage.

Cradled against a sea cliff of sedimentary rock and above a stairway of tide pools, the focus of the village was the temple of Ilumna, its forward façade of limestone reminiscent of a ship's mast. The pinnacle tower, shouldering the rock face, shone like a spire of pink-yellow glass against the sun, with the single white banner of the Holy Mother Dragonfly fluttering in the wind. Houses of similar blue-white stone construct stood close beneath the temple's gape, with domed roofs covered in fine Elven workings of yellow and pink. There was not a veranda or courtyard not adorned with lovely white, blue, and pink flowers, taken probably from the forest.

Aramis heaved a heavy sigh, squeezing his eyes shut though still being caught up by the sight of the village. He was tired and hoped maybe that Vanna could offer him a place to sleep before they went on to meet the Summoner (whatever it was). He wanted to ask Michelle, but he was afraid she would only act reproving toward him. She was after all, continually carrying his burden since they had met.

They entered through a delicate arch of plastered white, after ascending a gracious pinkish stairway from the beach. Within the tide pools lining the flight of stairs, were sea creatures of all assortment, sizes, and color. Halfway, a polite little red Murky Fish introduced himself to Michelle.

"Welcome to Besaid," it greeted in a chirruping song.

Her obeisance toward him was of the most regal of manner. It was always proper to carry one's self with elegance even when away from the confines of good society. Even though she did not want to, Michelle subconsciously adhered to the laws of etiquette. She held her parasol awry upon her shoulders when she entered the village's central lane, looking as always, a thing of superb beauty.

The Elves that they came across paid little heed to any of their presence and instead moved about backs rigid and head straight, as if they were bound by law to keep poise and gracefulness. It was something one needed to understand about Elves, that aesthetics meant everything, even to the way they walked. And squandering words, especially in greetings, was always a qualm amongst them. They frolicked in their serious bearing, ears a' pointing and elegant loose fitting robes trailing behind them, some eying the incomers with sneering suspicion. Michelle seemed to Ari, to fit in perfectly with them, with her constant keeping to gracefulness.

After a few minutes of walking, the girls and Aramis entered the Besaid marketplace, a large triangular area between three buildings of domed erection. Merchants of mostly gray Syvarren elves shouted ecstatically from their thatch-hut shops, trying to get citizens to purchase their wares. This was the first place to be loud and rowdy, with congregators of all variety—flame-red Fyorens, purple-skinned Isons, a small number of Drows and normal skinned Noldrin Elves, and surprisingly, some other foreigners in the vicinity. All were milling about, discussing, and cutting deals with one another.

The trio bumped their way through the establishment, through the crowd, trying to reach the temple entrance.

When the three stopped beneath the stoned mast-like appendage of the temple and the between two supporting pillars sculptured into great cats, Vanna turned to her companions.

"This is the Temple of Besaid, where Seraphoris, the Aeon of Light resides," she said. "Lynelle, my lady summoner has nearly ended her training here."

Michelle nodded, "My aunt requested that Ari and I accompany the Summoner on her pilgrimage. Possibly as Guardians?"

"That is what Deva requested," a familiar voice confirmed from behind them. Aramis saw an Elven woman, a Noldrin, suited in a purple-black dress with feather tassels and a pointed hat upon a head of long black hair. He about gasped at the similarity of the elf before him and Aunt Deva at Emelan. The same purple eyes, cascading midnight tresses, even her gaze of ravenous desire. Except for the lack of height and less busty torso, this elf was a mirror image.

When Ari turned to look at Michelle, the same perplexed look inhabited her face, her mouth even open at the confusion.

"Ahh...Vanna, it seams you've met the new guardians," the Noldrin spoke, in the exact sensuous tenor.

Vanna nodded, "Yes Rosalyn. They arrived at the South Beach"

The Elf's gaze averted over to Michelle, and then to Ari. He gulped down hard at the way she peered at him, a one as mature as she shouldn't when looking at a sixteen year old. She ambled closer to them, making clear the presence of a conjurer's staff in her left hand. Her smoldering purple eyes entrenched upon the boy, subjecting him into more mental torment.

"You will be delighted to meet the Summoner, yes?"

Ari tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but cut short by Michelle's promptness to respond.

"Before we are designated the task of guarding the Summoner, may I first ask why the responsibility falls on us?" Aramis felt a trace of hostility in Michelle's response.

"You're exactly as your aunt said," the Noldrin grinned. "It is a desirable trait that women are cool-headed during these trying times. Deva considered you as good for enlistment as a Guardian," her eyes moved to Michelle's rapier and parasol. "Endumil and Ethewui...I haven't seen the pair together since your mother and father were still together."

Michelle suddenly looked hurt and her features contorting visibly. "How do you know anything about my family? Endumil was my _father's sword_! And Ethewui-" She paused remembering the parasol did indeed belong to her mother. "It's mine!"

Aramis could almost feel the angst tearing at Michelle's soul, knowing that everything in her existence was possibly gone. Though her relations with her parents were unknown to him, it was obvious that they pained her. He reached out to console her, placing his hand upon her shoulder. "Michelle, it's alright."

The only reply came from the Elf. "I am aware of the troubles afflicting both of you," her voice was comforting, strong, and penetrating. "But the journey that lies ahead will be fraught with many troubles."

Michelle still was not satisfied. "But why us? Guardians need to have a bond with the Summoner they protect," Michelle sounded so assured, tossing her blonde ponytail ostentatiously. "What makes me and Ari so special?"

"The most powerful bonds are sometimes formed during the pilgrimage itself," Rosalyn replied without hesitancy. "Everything has a beginning from which we start with nothing. People too. A Summoner is rising, and you both are appointed the task to protect her. Will you answer to her call?"

Michelle's lips parted but she couldn't second a word.

Then, most observably out of his frustration within his mind, Aramis finally decided to interject. "All this speak of Aeons are nice, and I'd gladly be a Guardian. But before I go jumping headfirst into something, could someone tell me exactly what a Summoner is?"

Rosalyn looked at him with incredulity, but quickly her face relaxed into a pretty smile. "Maybe it would be best to meet with the Summoner."

------

The temple anteroom through which they passed through was of marvelous design. Above there heads raised the temple's dome, resplendent in bas-reliefs of Elven narratives. The ambient light spilled through the oculus in a pillar of radiance, spotlighting the sculpture standing in the center.

"At last, a tribute for Lord Braska" Ari heard an Elf explain before bowing to the effigy in the same manner of Michelle.

He followed closely beside the women entering the polished-marble nave of the Besaid temple. Now the light was everywhere, pouring through the clerestory's lancet windows and triforium's defining rose windows, empowered even more by the pink-white stone. The tripartite vaults soared higher than the first dome they passed, and replacing the relief-sculpture were more elegant and vibrant narrations and hanging banners of fine brocade. Behind delicately thin columns, the arcades parallel to the central walkway held the main traffic and overflow of Elven pilgrims.

The leisurely stroll ended at a dwarfing portal, where Ari's eyes fell upon the intricately crafted jamb sculptures holding aloft the decorated tympanum. An Elf on the left and a Valkyrie on the right, they stood stoically conformed to the stone, with only a single limb held out in a placating gesture. _The way is shut_, read across their drapery.

"Does that mean us?" Ari asked, almost childlike.

"It means you."

He felt a hand upon his shoulder and whipped about quickly to meet with its owner. Standing before him was the massive figure of a Coeurl. The lion-esque being, though only a female (the open mode of dress boasted of femininity), towered over him. But the voice came from another, hidden behind the beast of golden fur. A minuscule Juraian man in goldenrod robes peered from behind her as if keeping a vantage of safety but the massive hulk of the Coeurl's head turned and met him with a ferocious snarl that set the Juraian bolting backwards in an unusual hop.

"Sataume, good of you to join us." Rosalyn bowed to the enormous creature before she focused her attention to the Juraian. "Pleasantries, Praetor Ross."

"This is unheard of, Lady Rosalyn!" He pointed a patronizing finger at Ari. "I heard this Erressian in our presence should be a Guardian to our Summoner?"

"Mmhmmm," Rosalyn droned not caring. "Ross, the racial anxieties of the Jurai does not concern me. If it be that Aramis, an Erressian, has been chosen, I have no qualm."

"A heathen? His Emperor has openly ex-communicated himself from the Church, doesn't that mean anything! He cannot enter the cloister...it is impurity!" He stomped his foot in a demanding gesture, but it only made the man seem less tactful. Ari chuckled quietly to himself at how curious the Juraian man looked. He had met several of his kind during his lifetime, and they were all the same one-dimensional figures-all about religion and hating the Tol Erressian race. And usually they found a way to make both come together. Aramis was never devout, but it wasn't true he was a heathen.

"It's time now that we left Ross," the cool Rosalyn dared to say, gesturing for Sataume to open the heavy beechen door. The way was shut quickly when the group went in, the hollering of a disgruntled Juraian closed behind.

The cloister was dark without the outside light, with only the flame emitting from the crescent-mooned tip of Rosalyn's conjuring staff. It was a circular room paved in darkened cobblestone. No longer was the statuary of valiant feats of Elven knights or elegant Princesses. But now the sculptured relieves paneling the walls were of distorted peoples, bleak and grim and of dark-stone. They were deep inside the sea-cliff's face, as could be seen by the generic roof structure of looming stalactites. It was sullen inside the cave's prison, the only sounds coming from the dripping water from cracks and the breaths of the waiting.

All eyes lay upon the stairway leading up to a closed stoned door where the Summoner only entered. Aramis was the closest, at the foot of the staircase. His thoughts about everything dissipated as he lingered for the birthing of a new Summoner. All that he knew, was the Summoners had something to do with Sin. That was all Rosalyn told him, and he didn't dare ask Michelle for fear of disapproval. Yet, he felt that since Sin brought him here, maybe Sin could bring him back home to his time. From everything he knew, Sin didn't sound that bad.

It came just when Ari succumbed to boredom. There was a low growling sound and the hanging rock formations began to stir, then the door above the staircase whooshed open in a brilliant gale of white light. The prince had taken a single step covering his eyes with his hand in the process, when he caught sight of the delicately thin silhouette of a female step over the threshold.

Coming out of her prison of light and into plain sight, she captured Ari's breath. A picture of beauty, glistening in the perspiration of her ordeal, she ambled weakly down the steps. Her breathing was labored and her knees trembled beneath her weight.

Ari saw that she struggled to descend the flight of stairs. When her footing gave way in a small yelp, he was there to catch her from the mortal fall. He now held her close, feeling the youthful breasts from behind the thin white dress. She met with the green eyes of her savior and she gasped.

"How embarrassing, for me to fall like that," she sputtered, still burdened. She looked at him longer than she should have. What she really wanted to say was "Your eyes, they're beautiful"

He looked at her with incertitude and a bit self-conscious that such an attractive girl lay in his arms. All this time he had pictured Summoners as obnoxious clergy members. She was tall and thin and young, probably closer to his age than Michelle, as well as mahogany haired, and with a visage more angelic and innocent. Ari didn't say anything except smile awkwardly and help the Summoner to her feet to move on to the rest of the guardians. When she smiled at Ari, his knees went limp.

"I've done it" in giddy ecstasy she flourished the ornamented, long handled, rod clasped in her hand. She nodded, "I have become a Summoner"

Vanna clapped her hands together in delight and Michelle and the Coeurl leaning idly against the chamber walls gave off only a nod of approval to the Summoner. Rosalyn responded with a sultry smile. "Very well, Lynelle"

For some reason Ari felt a little warm and fuzzy all over his body.

------

Everyone that she knew was waiting outside for her. The Summoner peered from behind the temple pilaster, taking a brief moment to see the crowd of faces amassed at where the marketplace should be. She never liked the hordes that praised her.

A hand upon her shoulder came with a sudden surprise. "You'll need to face them sooner or later." It was the singsong voice of Vanna there to point out the reality.

"But do I need to face them all like this?" she asked.

"Well you should've thought of that before you decided to be a Summoner" Vanna responded disapprovingly to her best friend.

Lynelle sighed. The Corsan still harassed her for choosing to follow in her father's path as a Summoner. Vanna cared for her; it hurt the blonde that Lynelle was placing herself in danger. Sin was not something to be taken lightly with, for it knew well the purpose of the Summoners to end its life. Her father had done it, and Lynelle hoped to follow in his legacy (hoping as well that Sin did not recognize her as Summoner Braska's daughter).

_Maybe it would be best not to analyze the future_, she thought to herself. The pilgrimage hadn't even begun. Then _he_ sprung into her mind. It was embarrassing for her to fall like that, but she liked being in his arms. She thought about his tender youth, the aroma of jasmine her favorite flower emanating from him, and his dreamy green eyes. He had made quite an impression on her. A grin came across her face, and Vanna was there to catch it.

"What are you thinking about?" Vanna implored, naturally grimacing. She nudged her friend gently upon the shoulder. "Tell me Lynelle."

The Summoner breathed in deep and came from behind the column, ignoring her friend. "Well. Here I go Vanna." She stepped down from the temple patio, crossing the length of the veranda to the ardent cries of her fans. They formed an aisle way for her, the surge of Elves parting left or right, and then when she was at the very center, they enclosed her in an en masse circle.

Lynelle swallowed what fear that held her body. It would be her first Summon (hopefully).

------

"Lynelle." The name of the Summoner rolled off Ari's tongue in a delightful sigh. Michelle heard him and gave him a disapproving look, and then she told him to be quiet.

The group of Guardians kept watch on their Summoner from a tent-like platform behind the crowd of people. She was dancing now, Lynelle, twirling in random motions, her Summoner's rod. Her once tied back hair escaped from its security and moved along with her. Then after what seemed to Ari like a rifle spin movement, she stopped the dance and then raised the rod into the air.

Rosalyn brooded closest to the platform edge trying to keep calm by cooling herself with a fan. The woman was keenly worried about Lynelle and her Summoning abilities. Repeatedly Aramis heard her cry under her breath. "Seraphoris, arise Seraphoris"

When nothing came and Lynelle suffered to linger motionless in the midst of all her fellow elves, Rosalyn sighed and turned to exit the platform. There was sadness in her eyes that Ari perceived automatically. Vanna stayed there only to follow the Coeurl when it decided to lumber after Rosalyn. Ari and Michelle descended the ladder last.

They were about to console Lynelle, with a downcast face, when suddenly the circular area around the summoner began to glow white.

"It's a Glyph! A Summoner's Glyph!" Rosalyn sounded relieved.

Aramis looked to his feet and was astonished at the rose-window patterns on the pavement. The clouds above broke and from the opening came such a great bird sound, like an eagle. Yet it wasn't what Aramis imagined it to be when he looked up to the sky. It was a great white flying _thing_, almost like a bird but not. The majestic creature whooshed down on wings of gold and pale violet, along the way wooing the on looking Elves into applause or polite genuflections, to meet Lynelle in her reverie. She smiled happily when it came warbling to her. It was just too good to be true, that at last she was a Summoner.

The next few moments were cluttered but blissful as Lynelle was besieged on all fronts by accolades of her people. Vanna was patting the Aeon on his head, marveling at the beauty of the creature, while Sataume just stayed there dwarfing the elves crowding her, and Rosalyn congratulated her Summoner for a job well done. Aramis stood to the side, smiling proudly at Lynelle, glad to be her Guardian. Somewhere Michelle had lost her parasol to the wind so she scurried off through the crowd to retrieve it. 

"It's a beautiful Aeon my dear," Rosalyn said still rejoicing after the crowds let out. "The soul of the Summoner is strong indeed with you"

"Thank you Rosalyn," she stroked the velvety down on the Aeon's neck causing it to rub with its face against her arm. "I should call him back now"

Rosalyn nodded, but was startled when something perched upon her shoulder. Then she quickly recognized the black raven shooing it away with her fan. "Vicar, good of you to join. Did you bring your sister?"

"Yes mum" the trilling voice came from a yellow-orange finch landing onto Lynelle's extended hand.

"Oh, hullo Medley" the Summoner said.

Ari swore the bird bowed for the Summoner, a very curious gesture. The birds from where he came from were usually very impolite. "Uh, did the bird call you 'mum'?" He asked.

"Yes they're my children. I believe you met their father in the tide pool, the red fish? I'm sure he greeted you?" She instantly caught the startled look on the Erressian's face and explained, "They're not in their natural form. Bewitched by Sin of course"

"Oh, right"

"We won't be like this for long though," the Raven fluttered over onto Lynelle's shoulder. "Lynelle's going to defeat Sin now"

She smiled uneasily, "Yes. Defeat Sin"

Vanna shooed the bird away from her friend, "Vicar! You should be more sensitive!"

Vicar landed on the Aeon who didn't seem to mind, "So where's the next one going to be?"

"Ison, a ship comes tomorrow" his mother answered.

Aramis stepped in to pet the Aeon, "You mean there's more than one Aeon?"

Vicar turned toward the Prince, "And he's supposed to be a Guardian?" The bird was mocking Ari, "what a failure"

"I still haven't been filled in on my duty as a Guardian, nor the task of the Summoner. I'm not from here, I'm sure you all know that."

"Not that nonsense again," it was Michelle coming back with her parasol in hand. "Ari's been affected by Sin's poison. He thinks he's from Sindar."

Lynelle's eyes widened at this. "Sindar!"

"Now you must be exhausted, Lynelle." Rosalyn quickly changed the subject, when Sindar arose. "No more talking right now." She gave her fan and staff for the prince to hold and then clapped her hands together. She opened them to form a hovering globe of water that she passed to the Summoner for a most needed drink. "Vanna see to it both the new Guardians are rested and refreshed before the festivities tonight," Rosalyn finally said, guiding Lynelle back to her hut to rest.

As directed, the Corsan provided Ari and Michelle a well-needed lunch at her lodging, of mango with coconut gel. This was to the liking of Aramis' vegan diet, but a carpophagous lunch wasn't entirely satisfying to Michelle's wants.

After that, Vanna was hospitable enough to lay out a bed meant for what she believed was a "couple" and ran out just before Ari lodged a complaint or at least made amends to the Corsan's false disposition. Still, the day's turbulence won out over his hesitance and sleep arrived in just an hour's time...

------

The boy awoke after quite a refreshing slumber, remembering just as the dawn was breaking that he'd missed the twilight celebration. He studied the room for Michelle when he noticed her absence. She didn't even bother to wake him nor tell him when she left earlier that morning. Then he detected that she'd left a sphere on the console for him. He raised himself out of the bed's comfort to obtain the orange ball, and then thumbed it in the proper manner to release its recording contents. It opened just as a peeled orange would look, sending the projected image of Michelle into sight. Ari was glad at least some basic technology existed in the world.

"Ari," came the distorted voice of the hologram, "Sorry I couldn't wake you for last night. You appeared too content to be bothered. Anyways, please meet up with Lynelle when you find this. The Summoner insisted on letting you sleep through the morning. She's down by the beach where we first saw the village, so meet up with her okay?"

When the recording ended, Ari snorted indignantly at how she spoke to him like a child. He closed the sphere and secured it his pants pocket.

------

She walked in the love of her young Elven sun when he found her, wandering effortless within the ocean swell. The smile she gave when they met was potent, rendering him once more a captive to her powerful beauty. She emerged from the sea halfway doused in a purple-white kimono, still bearing the Summoner's rod in her dominant hand. Ari shifted with unease with every closing step.

"You called?" he spoke tensely.

"That's right. I waited for you," she wouldn't stop smiling. "Are you ready? Everyone's waiting at the dock. They say a grand ship arrived late last night to take us to Ison."

"Ison...that means more Elves, of the purple sort, right? Well that's exciting."

The next second Lynelle took Aramis by the hand. "Come with me?" Her voice palled with innocence, but she ended with a brash smile.

"I'll come," he nodded.

Ari and Lynelle took to the beach's end, right at the edge of the greenery, and kept that route. As a pair, they found the other's presence more than agreeable. Ari was most content with Lynelle, envying at how elegant she was or mellowing at the sound of her voice. The Summoner was equally blissful, being accompanied by such a genial young man.

When they happened upon the sea-cliff edge there was a long absence of their voices. Yet the quiet did not resonate as a bad thing in either of their minds. It was the soothing state of the other being there that was assuring to them both. The tranquil silence was only broken by the many squawks and barks and trilling of birds, other wildlife, and the overabundance of sounds only an ocean could produce.

They ambled close to a half-hour when Lynelle stopped ahead of him and turned to survey the panorama behind, catching a sensation of unrest. Even at her young age, she had all the instinctive perceptions to danger as any older Elf. She fumbled apprehensively in both her hands the Summoner's Rod.

"Lyn, you alright?" Ari said.

Lynelle, ignoring the sense of danger and Ari, beheld the village of Besaid, its picturesque beauty taking her into an almost hypnotic state. She inhaled a breath of the weighted air, and sighed painfully that the pilgrimage would take her away from her home. She stepped back and performed the prayerful bow Aramis had seen twice before.

When she ripped herself away and turned to continue, the Summoner stared back helplessly at Aramis and screamed. A voracious salamander of huge proportion lurked down from the cliff onto the path. Besaid's interior plagued of frightful dangers like these, set to make a meal out of the island's poor Elves, this one already leering at the sight of the Summoner. The yellow-green abhorrence advanced dazedly on its stumpy legs, hoping a delicious snack would soon be digesting in its belly.

But fearlessly Ari plunged his way towards it, blocking it from his Summoner. Even though weaponless, the Prince still kept to his duties as a Guardian, even if unconsciously. But the hungry creature continued with two for a meal on its mind, dribbles pouring from its gaping maw into gobs on the ground.

He achieved in getting the salamander's attention by presenting himself more openly to it by getting closer, dissuading an attack on Lynelle. It darted forward unorthodoxly on its under-developed legs, but Ari found an easy escape to his right. After several more desperate tries and consecutive failures, the creature stopped from lack of stamina, but still bit the air in a measure to reassure its intimidation.

The hefty salamander blocked off any means to continue forward. Weaponless, Ari didn't see a chance through this path.

"Ari, why don't you try using that sword?" Lynelle suggested quite calmly. She pointed at the blade resting against the cliff wall. She figured that as her Guardian the Erressian had some skill with a weapon.

The blonde gawked in his mind at the idea that there'd be a weapon for him just lying their. But as soon as he noticed a glint of metal from the corner of his eye, his head swept in its direction. Right there against the face of the cliff was the most spectacular weapon Ari had ever laid sight upon.

It was a massive sword with tremendous length and girth, almost as tall as he was. The face of the sword gleamed in a magical metallic sparkle that glittered curiously like the nighttime stars. Sunlight wavered extravagantly upon the curving inside edge as Ari ran his mesmerized eyes across its flamboyance. Reaching for its crafted hilt and alas lifting it with such unexpected ease, it rang out whistling the wind as he brought the sword down to match the salamander.

The creature produced an inexcusable sound from its throat and brandished its terrible mouth of teeth at Ari. It lunged at him, this time with more ferocity than in its last attempts. But that witless engagement would result in its end.

Just as it came into distance, Ari's weapon, held taut in his clutch, descended brutally onto, and promptly through the fiend's neck in a single clean cut. From behind the bloodied steel, Ari glimpsed the name of the sword glow through in an eerie indigo.

Aeris; the Erressian equivalent for "holy" in the Westril speak.

Indeed the weapon was of godly craft.

"All right!" Ari proclaimed as he watched the decapitated form of the dead fiend falter onto the ground.

But Ari triumphed less than a few moments when Lynelle screamed once again. As he attempted to react, he felt the plunge of an alien weight on his stomach and he toppled in an instance. The meeting with the amphibian had attracted far too much attention than he'd expected, and another dangerous fiend had arrived. Its body formed a shape of a bobbing blue gelatin mound. The peculiar creature laid heavy on Ari's chest its mouth wide in glory that it had caught a tasty morsel.

"Oh dear!" Lynelle cringed at the squelching thing on her guardian. "I believe it's a Flan."

"That's an appropriate name!" The Erressian didn't know whether or not to be afraid of the living dessert, as it appeared almost amusing. "Get off of me little bugger!"

Without teeth, it looked to be of no threat, just an annoyance, until it leaned to chomp upon Ari's head, and cut his breathing. Then he attempted to retrieve his weapon, but was powerless, and so tried to wriggle the glutinous substance off his body to no success.

Lynelle kept a calm demeanor. Using her rod, she beat the Flan upon its head wanting to aid the choking boy.

"What's happening?" She tugged to release her weapon but it stuck into its gummy body upon her first strike. The viscous substance inside the fiend sucked them in making her pulling away unfeasible. "Oh my!" she pulled helplessly to the rod once more. "Is anyone there?"

An answer came as a tremendous shock, literally a ball of crackling blue electricity that burst into the flan and propelled it into the air. The gelatin landed onto the floor ablaze with electrical discharge, squirming in fatal hurt before it melted into the ground.

Immediately the freed Summoner's eyes fell onto the sexy figure of Rosalyn, the Black Mage's staff still alive with voltage from casting her newest spell. "Pesky creature, these ones are with me. Go find another snack."

Lynelle helped Ari to his feet. "Thank you Rosalyn," she exulted, wiping the traces of gel remaining on her rod. "Your display of power and reliability is always appreciated."

"Yes, we're very thankful aid came so promptly." Ari sounded obviously enthralled to be liberated. He recovered his sword from the ground and slid it effortlessly through a sheath he brought with him from Sindar.

Rosalyn's eyes caught the presence of the blade, "Where'd you get hold of that?"

He pointed with his thumb at the hilt showing from behind his back. "This?"

The woman nodded, coming closer to the pair.

"I found this near the cliff." He reached to touch the handle, but took his hand back when a startling electrical jolt startled it. "That hurt!" he complained babyishly, bringing his burnt fingers to his mouth.

"Oh my?" Lynelle wanted to restrain herself but the Summoner couldn't help but giggle. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine" he said, ambling over to see the faint remains of the charred Flan. The crackling of static still jumped on the blackened mark of its demise. "You deserved that," he teased.

Rosalyn placed her hands on her waist informing her companions they needed to be on their way. "The ship is still waiting," she said.

Lynelle turned to catch a quick glimpse of Besaid before turning back to the mage for permission. "May I?"

"Take your time." Rosalyn gladly gave her consent.

Lynelle obeyed and let her gaze loiter on her village a few moments more. The Summoner let out a perturbed sigh and eased to a relaxed posture, taking in the grand vista. A crisp sea current picked up, tenderly unsettling her dress and hair. Aramis lost himself again at the Summoner's graced sight. Watching her in her calm daze was enough to keep him waiting compliantly soothed and relaxed. Soon she turned back around ripping herself from the sight of her village.

Sadness of leaving weighed heavy in her heart, but she kept only a composed bearing for Rosalyn and Ari to see. "I'm ready to begin...my pilgrimage," she voiced quietly. The sensations of leaving everything she knew behind still wrenched faintly in her tone.

"Are you sure?" Rosalyn inquired for certainty.

"Yes." The Summoner nodded in assurance, before ambling past Ari unhurriedly. "I am certain."

Rosalyn heaved a thick heavy sigh and continued forward, using her staff as a walking stick. Ari could not tell if her sigh was from relief or sorrow.

The group of three rounded the sea-cliff without any further incident, with Rosalyn at the head, and the trio arrived at another beach, this one in the shadow of several great ruins. Their massive forms arched over the beach, the wide columnar supports beginning in the greenery, and ending in the sea. The Erressian's curiosity drove him ahead of Rosalyn and Lynelle to the grand archway itself where he could inspect every elaboration of the stonework up close.

Ari with his youthful inquisitiveness reached to touch the stone when something else stirred his attention. High up upon the construction, rested on a thick buttress an impending form. He felt its demon red eyes follow apprehensively onto him from its distance. The anxious prince stepped and turned back to run from its itinerant gaze, but before he could the figure was already in front of him after a stealthy descent from the top of the structure. Before him in clear light was the Coeurl from the Cloister, one of Lynelle's guardians, standing like death itself.

------


	3. Chapter 3: Surmising Hope

Chapter 3: _Surmising Hope_

_"If anything happens, unexpectedly  
I know you are there, to come and save me" _

A comparison with death was actually quite reasonable for the Coeurl. Draped in heavy black robes and a cowl over her head, she made a reassuring similarity to the taker of souls. Only her flinging tail standing on end behind her served as a reminder of felineness. But it wasn't the figure of death that was so frightening, but what she carried.

In an eerie purple haze, the curving edge and long wooden handle of a scythe materialized right into the Coeurl's clawed grasp. For her the weapon was a tremendous burden, suited for no other creature of lesser stature or strength. The mournful figure advanced on her Erressian quarry, trapping Ari against the stone foundation. He didn't know whether the cat only toyed with him or it was genuine fear she wanted to produce.

Gasping in astonishment, he beheld the Coeurl draw back her scythe in both hands for a death-dealing blow. He caught the danger immediately and slid his own big weapon from place behind him. The Coeurl's blow bore down onto _Aeris'_ adamantine surface with a metallic clang and tremendous force that quavered into Ari's arm. The impact came too heavy for the prince to withstand; a single blow numbed his arm useless and the sword he defended with slipped out onto the earth.

"That's enough Sataume,"

At the order, the Coeurl retracted her scythe into rest. Her eyes still narrowed onto the prince warily. Ari, relieved, looked away to the saving voice Rosalyn, stepping to the Coeurl's side. Sataume didn't even wait to acknowledge the mage and leapt up in a single bound back onto the archway ruin.

In his quietest whisper the prince dared to speak, "What was that about?"

"She's only testing you," Rosalyn replied. "Sataume makes use of her strength well. Sometimes too much for the rest of us."

Ari looked at his left sword-arm. It still stung from the parry. "Testing me why?" he asked, retrieving his weapon and storing it properly.

"She hasn't your trust yet. Coeurls are naturally that way. Time will see to it though."

Lynelle approached them, a concerned look for Ari on her face. _At least that's what Ari wanted to think. _

"I hope she didn't scare you," the Summoner said, "Sometimes she's a bit overprotective of me," she smiled and looked away to the Coeurl, still scrutinizing attentively from her high roost. "She's always around, always watching over me since I was a child."

Ari stiffened as Sataume disappeared; her eyes were always going to be watching. He worried that she had monitored him accompanying Lynelle from the first beach.

"Probably," he affirmed aloud.

"What was that?" Rosalyn inquired.

"Uh...shouldn't we be leaving?"

"Yes, mustn't misuse any more time," she agreed with a grin, "Lynelle are you ready?"

"Un," the Summoner nodded.

When they proceeded once again, Lynelle strolled unaccompanied at the front. Rosalyn stayed some length behind with Ari by her side, not wanting to interfere in her Summoner's sashay by the sea. After all, Sataume would always be there in case of any real danger, even if the Coeurl wasn't in sight. Filled with the sweet fragrances and sounds of the ocean they continued on a delightful stroll down the shore.

The ocean was handsome, clear blue and majestic. Ari had seen oceans before, Sindar settled right alongside one, but not one nearly as gorgeous as this Elven example. The waters of Sindar were shadowy and cold and the beaches were annoyingly dry and gritty, almost like a desert. He'd heard that the Tol Erressian Mother world boasted the most beautiful waters, the vast Chronosian and Serenity Sea, but until he saw it, Besaid's ranked the highest so far. Lynelle silently frolicked once again in the wave's tender caress. Indeed, everything about the water was purely beautiful in Ari's light.

The blonde prince continued alongside the mage quietly, his stare always upon his Summoner and the ocean.

This girl was special. He had not known her long, but he was aware of the deepening bond that was growing for her. He could not explain it, yet it was still too early in their engagement to call it anything more than a blossoming friendship. Anything else would be simply madness...

After passing underneath another archway ruin, this one even larger than the first, the lively marina came into eyesight. Actually it was a single pier, but for a small island like Besaid that would be expected. Ari had remembered that when he left Vanna's lodging the usual commotion of Elves was unseen. A crowd had gathered here, most likely everyone in the village to bid farewell to their young Summoner.

Lynelle joined Rosalyn and Ari once again for the descent down the sweeping tiled lane leading to the Besaid harbor. As the Summoner went next to Ari, the prince turned to smile at her, but in an alarmed double take, the looming figure of Sataume had appeared on Lynelle's opposite shoulder. As the Prince gawked up at the cat, Sataume replied with a hissing scowl. This signaled for him to move away from the Summoner.

He did so graciously and fearfully.

This time the crowd didn't resound into delighted cheer as the Summoner approached nearer. Her departure instead, brought mournful farewells and a few shed tears. They morosely parted, creating a pathway for the Summoner to reach the ship latent beside the pier. But the sight of the ship was not as expected to Ari: the prow shaped as Corsan maiden formed into the frame of illustrious carmine red wood. Two purple sails unfurled in the wind on a single mast. Its embossed name, _Surmising Hope_ shimmered across the port side hull in silver lettering. It was a wonderful craft, yet the Erressian looked stupidly at its sight.

"That's not a ship!"

Everyone heard the boy, and even the Guardians looked at him as if he was a lunatic.

Ari hadn't expected such a string of unkind stares. "Well _it is_ a ship, but for sailing on water," he explained hoping the Elves would accept his rationale. "We're off to Ison, and that's another planet."

Michelle, with Vanna, emerged from the crowd with a hand on her shaking forehead. "Not this again..."

"What backwater planet are you from kid? This ship's taking us to Ison." Vanna said.

"This thing can fly?" Ari looked amazed.

"Uhhh...no," her eyes twitched in disbelief, "Did you get too close to Sin there buddy?"

"Actually he did," Michelle confirmed, "Right Ari?"

"Er..." Ari could hear the snickers from the on looking Elves. He relinquished with a sigh, "Yeah, Sin got near me."

He hated telling the lie.

Too embarrassed to face anyone anymore he boarded the ship with his head down. From afar, he watched as Lynelle gave her farewell to the people of Besaid:

"Do not frown at my departure," she comforted. "Be hopeful that soon a new Calm will be upon us to enjoy"

The crowd finally burst into cheer. Lynelle breathed in and smiled.

"Fare thee well young Summoner, and may Grace of Ilumna shine upon your pilgrimage." It was the bilious Praetor Ross who bequeathed his blessings optimistically. At that, he shaped the prayer of the Goddess for her. The rest of the spectators followed suit.

"Thank you your Holiness," Lynelle said.

"I am pleasured milady Summoner," he replied. "Remember always to be wary for danger close at hand." His gaze turned to Ari onboard the ship, but surprisingly the prince wasn't paying attention.

"Yes your Holiness." She executed the prayer bow and continued forward to the ship.

A group of children circled around the Summoner and each gave her a bouquet of red _Viluri_ flowers. "We love you Lady Lynelle!"

Lynelle took the bouquets graciously. "Oh children! These are beautiful!"

"They're nowhere near as beautiful as you milady."

Lynelle grinned, "Thank you. Now run along younglings."

"Bye!" the group of children yelped, running back into the crowd.

Lynelle departed with her guardians soon after receiving the gifts. As the ship's sails picked speed in the keening wind, she continued to wave adieu to the people of her island home. But as she confidently smiled, she grew also more somber as the island flitted away in the distance and out of sight.

"Goodbye."

------

Ari found a comfortable padded bench near the prow of the ship. He settled down hoping to sit for a few moments and watch the sea. But against his liking the undulating waves of the sea swayed him into slumber. No sooner did he begin to dream...

_Lynelle stood in the doorway of Ari's royal bedroom. The girl bit innocently on her lip with a mischievous light in her eyes. She wore nothing but a wet chemise as she approached his bed. There was little for imagination of her undersized breasts through the moist cloth. Below her stomach, he saw her thighs outline a perfect "V," coaxing Ari's probing eyes. She moved slowly up onto the bed, making her way to the boy, lying in his shorts. _

_Ari's heart pounded elatedly. He began to breathe more rapidly as a rush of exhilaration came over his body. Lynelle placed her hand upon his left leg, running her fingers up and down the length of it. He shuddered, withdrawing both his legs from her, and leaned up farther against the oak headboard. _

_Lynelle licked her lips and stared passionately at the tense young boy. He breathed harder, and his heart pounded against his chest. Her gaze of playful sensuality enthralled the boy. She smiled knowingly, running her hand up his shin. _

_Ari felt vulnerable involved in this manner with the Summoner he swore to protect. But he did not want her to be dissatisfied with his lack of response. The intensity clouded his mind and he could neither think nor move. He only waited for what was about to come. _

_His eyes shot open wide as Michelle's delicate figure framed into the doorway behind Lynelle. She wore a revealing pink camisole also drenched in seawater. _

_He drew in a breath sharply, quivering the extent of his body, as Michelle approached beside Lynelle. _

_Lynelle kneeled, leveling herself with him, leaned up against the headboard. Michelle did the same. _

_"Such a handsome Erressian," Lynelle said placing her hand on his torso. _

_"Oh Ari! Aramis Viladriel," Michelle murmured suggestively and followed the Summoner. _

_He gave an awkward smile of approval to them both. _

_They could feel his heart pounding as they both caressed his splendid chest, tracing the lines of his well-muscled belly. Both girls paused at the waistline of his orange shorts and lifted her questioning glance to his shut eyes. _

_"What do you want us to do?" they asked in a husky whisper. _

_He only whimpered in retort. _

_"Hey! Stop dreaming!" a gruff voice, vaguely familiar, caught him by surprise. He opened his eyes, only to see a figure watching in the doorway—his father, Jecht! _

_"You with a woman? You can't even stand up for yourself!" the dark-toned man snickered. "They need someone to protect them." _

_The under-clothed women raised themselves off the bed and found a new place in the crooks of Jecht's arms. Ari did not protest. He did nothing but sit against the headboard, disheartened. _

_"Aww, what's the matter?" Jecht taunted callously, glancing at the prizes on each side, "Gonna cry again? Cry, cry; that's the only thing you're good for!" He prompted his son's contempt with more humiliating snickers. _

_His father bested him at everything and scornfully made sure to incite his superiority. With a downcast head, Ari saw his fingers clench into his palm with resentment. "I hate you," he muttered under his breath. _

_"What did you say?" his father asked. _

_"You have to speak loudly," Lynelle said in an encouraging tone. _

_"And look to whoever you're speaking to," added Michelle. _

_"I hate you!" Ari shouted at the loathsome apparition of his father, making sure he heard. He didn't dare look upon Jecht. He tightened his fists even more than before. _

_"Eh?" Jecht still didn't acknowledge Ari. He never would. _

_The Prince finally lost all his tolerance, "I hate you!" _

He awoke suddenly, the white sunlight assaulting his eyes. When the prince sat up from the plushy cushion of his bench, his first sight eased onto Lynelle, appearing just like in the dream. It was funny how his father just had to show his face. Even in the unconsciousness of his sleep there was no escape from that hateful man. He vowed in his mind he wouldn't lose Lynelle to him or anything for that matter.

Ari drifted into yet another dreamy state staring at Lynelle on the rear of the ship.

"She's cute, huh?" Vanna's singsong voice surprised Ari. The smirking Corsan in mermaid form sat brushing her splendid hair on the ship's prow. "Are you interested in her?"

"Yeah…" he confessed with an elated sigh again looking onto the Summoner. He became so entranced that he didn't even notice what he'd admitted to.

"Well don't get any ideas!" Vanna's tone broke the hazed reality that Ari fell into.

"Huh? But hey, what if _she_ like, comes onto _me_?" He smirked, trying to conceal a bout of laughter regarding his dream.

"Umm...that's not happening buddy. Love is the last thing she needs, so stay away okay?"

Ari looked back onto Lynelle, her hair whisking in the wind. He couldn't help but say it out loud.

"So beautiful."

The Corsan replied with an irritated groan. "Ughh! Are you even listening! Lynelle is a Summoner." She looked at Ari with more seriousness, "It'll just make things hard for both of you."

Ari's face crinkled. "Both of us?"

Vanna sighed, "Its hopeless getting through to you."

"Well, then maybe someone should try listening to me," the prince said, "like explaining how this ship's going to reach Ison?"

The Corsan looked at him regretfully, "Do you really not know?"

Ari breathed in deep. "Yeah, and it's not because I got too close to Sin." he made sure Vanna discerned this before she concluded anything. "I want to know about the pilgrimage first," he requested.

"Well, the pilgrimage is to defeat Sin," Ari felt a slight weakness in her perkiness. She promptly folded her bare arms in her waist. "The Aeon you saw Lynelle beckon, It's a weapon against it."

He found it hard to believe that Seraphoris was capable of that. Sin after all, laid complete waste to warships back on his Sindar. "You mean that thing back there can defeat Sin?"

Vanna shook her head. "The Aeons are powerful, but not directly against Sin. Lynelle will pilgrimage to temples like the one in Besaid all across the Galaxy. When she's acquired enough skill and trust from the Fayth-"

"Fayth?" Ari recalled the term from one of Michelle's conversations on Emelan. "I've heard of them before, its what they called people who-"

"-who gave their lives to battle Sin." Vanna interrupted him just as he had, "Ilumna took their souls, willingly given from their still living bodies. Now they live forever, trapped in statues. But when a Summoner beckons, the souls of the Fayth emerge once again. That's what we call an Aeon."

"Oh." He sat silent for a moment for many questions still were unanswered. "But then how does this ship travel to Ison? If _Machina_ is forbidden, how do you guys get around?"

"Sinports," the girl answered. "Sin connects every planet with doorways so it can get around quickly. It's not capable of hyper speed you know, like the ancient celestial ships were, so it made the network for its use. They're positioned sort of randomly but the first Summoners found ways to use them for their Pilgrimage. Usually it requires Divine Intellect, or magic, to make them operational. That's why Rosalyn's with us, being a mage and all."

"That's a practical use." Ari was fascinated with the future world, eagerly he asked for more, "So the world is doing just fine without _Machina_ then?"

"Uh, not quite. Only Summoners and their Guardians can use the Sinports, so everything, all the connections between worlds are strained. The Val-Viera try to stop this, but the Galaxy is just too big even for the Church."

"Val-Viera?"

"Valkyries. That's an improper term the Erressian's gave them," she said. "They're the ones running the place, but you already know that because Michelle told you. Anyways, the world still remains linked with spheres; you know what those are right?"

Ari nodded. Spheres were in heavy use even before his time. Whether the curious orange globes were an ancient technological feat or some magical contrivance, they remained an indispensable part of every Arendian's life for their universal recording, medicinal, locking, fuel and even consumption purposes. He still had one in his pocket from the morning.

In just those few moments, he'd learned everything he'd been yearning for the past day. No longer did he feel stalled by his ignorance to the times.

"Vanna..." he called for her attention once more.

She looked away from her hair-brushing acceptingly. "Yes?"

"I'm going to go walk around and get my sea-legs. It's been a joy chatting with you." He stood up and attempted Ilumna's prayer bow.

The girl sniggered at the humorous display of his almost heretical bow. "Keep practicing there buddy before you offend someone. I think you need that more than your sea-legs."

"Ha, funny."

Ari left the Corsan finally to tend her hair peacefully. Even as Erressians were closely acquainted with the Mermaid race, Vanna was the first Corsan he'd ever seen before. And judging that he'd resurface on Ether in the water, it was probably she that recovered him from the surf. He owed his life to her. If she weren't a blonde, maybe he would have admired her as much as he did Lynelle. All the girls that popped up were beautiful; Vanna, Michelle, Lynelle, Rosalyn, even Sataume in a creepy sort of way.

Vanna's body was more complicated than he would have guessed it to be, with long spiny bits and ridges all across her tail and back and arms. She was evocative of a lionfish, but a nicer mass of vivid greens, yellows, and reds. Hopefully she wasn't venomous as well. The generic fish body and human torso in books or sculpture where he'd seen them before was a far cry from the reality. When a Corsan's in her actual form, she took on quite a bit more fish qualities than human.

Their eyes were different, the pupil appearing a speckled blue and yellow, and where there is white in humans, there were striations in Corsans.

Her hair was an entirely different consistency from fibrous keratin, being more like thin ribbon pasta with seaweed tresses. When Ari thought about her hair, Vanna wasn't using a comb at all, but her own thin spiny fingertips. Usually the Corsan would braid on her head randomly arranged plaits with dangling beads of coral or seashells; whatever got leftover in the surf. Vanna's own head was free from most of this except for a single braid falling behind her ear.

But even as Vanna differed the most physically, Ari was the most outlandish creature on board, and not just because he came from the past. Corsans integrated easily into any society, and were on good social grounds with any race. The same couldn't be said about their allies, the Erressians. Ari still wore the same green regalia and laurel coronet since he arrived in Arendia. He would blend in easier if it had not been for this obvious dress, that he suspected smelled neither too keen. His green eyes were another given, but it was a subtlety he could afford to hide.

He had already suffered disgusted looks from some of the Fyoren elves, the red ones less tolerant of his race, on board. This contempt was most likely the same for everyone else not willing to show it openly, but luckily there weren't any Juraians that he knew would star something more serious. It was just an unpleasant fact he knew from birth. _They were the dangerous counterculture to the Erressian ways. _

Very soon the omniscient presence of water began to bore him whilst he stayed at the port side railing. Every pitch and bob of the ship just seemed to add to the growing unwanted feeling. He left and found the galley below without much of any crowds, but he didn't scrounge anything to eat just yet.

Rosalyn sat alone at a table in the very back of the square establishment. She could offer him some relief to the wearying voyage but he didn't feel it was necessary to stir her from her apparent meditation just to relive his boredom.

He saw two figures on his right near the food dispense line, engaged in a companionable conversation.

"They say the Summoner onboard is Braska's daughter," Ari heard one say. The boy turned to watch the figures.

He saw a grim looking Drow in full plated armor chatting with a little Mogg companion. The smaller creature was obviously the one who addressed the Summoner in its little chirruping voice. The dark skinned elf picked up the plushy little green man with pink eyes and placed him on a stool near them. The Mogg almost looked like a teddy bear.

"You don't say Resili?" said the Drow.

"She's Braska's daughter alright. Saw her myself," the Mogg said proudly, "We'll get her to Ison, we will."

"If she's High Summoner's blood, than maybe she'll stand a chance," the Drow exclaimed.

_Braska_. Ari remembered the effigy from the Besaid temple. A monk had revered the great stone monument. That was Lynelle's father! She was an heir to great legacy, and he never knew it. Intrigued he made room for himself in the conversation.

"Did you say the Summoner's Lord Braska's daughter?"

The Mogg's simplified features furrowed as it looked upon Ari, "Now who be you? An Erressian!"

"Now Resili-" the Drow reached out to pacify his friend.

"The Summoner onboard is but Braska's own blood. His daughter!" the Mogg raised its arms in an unusual bout, "your likes need stay clear of her leadership!"

Outraged, the aggravated Ari managed to restrain himself, knowing that if a Mogg turned up dead at Erressian hands he'd be in a world of trouble. "She has a name you know," he said, "it's Lynelle and I'm one of her Guardians," he confirmed.

The Mogg's beady eyes widened, "Not your kind!"

"Resili that's enough," the Drow waved his arms to cease, "it's not that surprising that Erressians should be recruited around these parts. After all, there was Jecht. Now he-"

"Jecht?" Ari was confounded. "That was-"

"He was my father's guardian"

Ari saw as the Mogg and Drow rushed to perform the prayer bow. That voice--he spun round quickly to meet its speaker. Lynelle was there, her form at the top of the staircase.

There in her eyes was the brimming of excitement Ari had seen in his dream. The girl felt her way down the staircase, using the handrail, taking one careful step after another--she had some misfortune with descending stairs in the past. Though she was cautious, it took only one misplaced step to throw her off. Lynelle's sagging pleats slipped beneath her steps and as before, she fell from midway. Ari saw her yelp and he curried to save her once again. "Got you," he cried. Just as before, Lynelle fell into another of Ari's worthy embraces. He could feel her beating heart on his chest even through the fabric of her dress. Lynelle was that close. He was holding her above the ground, his eyes absolutely leveled with hers. There was hardly separation from their bodies. They molded as one; every contour of his muscles pressed against her every sinew and natural curve, every light breath whispering onto the other's neck.

It was in that amiable silence, that the Drow and Mogg looked on. Resili the Mogg stood up to whisper into his companion's ear, "Still think that she's got what it takes to defeat Sin?" the creature teased, "She's clumsy if you asked me, and that's not a respectable trait for them Summoners. Especially for the daughter of a High Summoner."

A hush had fallen on the rigid Drow so he didn't heed his companion's jeering. He turned away from the Summoner and her Guardian with a new somber look upon him. Something about the sight of the youth stirred him from deep inside, causing an evident pain to surface. The Drow with his heart heavy with unknown weight left the scene to a conjoined room. Resili followed him without even the slightest mentioning or hesitance...

They looked at each other, Lynelle and Ari, when the boy let her go from his rescuing vice. The Summoner smiled and giggled in the seconds afterwards. Ari smiled too. The girl's pale features flushed, "I'm always falling into trouble, but then you were there to catch me." Lynelle's eyes shimmered, "You know, our meeting like this must be the blessing of the Goddess."

"Thanks," he responded, trying to conceal his mirth. Her words were so thoughtful; Ari was a _blessing_ to her. He wanted to speak with her now. But not where they were at that moment. It needed to be somewhere calmer and more open, so he could be open with her. Not beneath the confines of the ship.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" He noted that more people started pouring down into the galley, "They're beginning to serve lunch. It's going to be crowded soon."

She nodded and took his hand into her own. In a whisper she spoke, "_Iluriethel_. Yes, of course."

Ari moved to guide her up the stairs, holding her hand firmly to prevent another fall. When they came upon the outside, the crisp sea current proved to be refreshing to him. The bobbing ship sighed only occasionally beneath their treading feet as they strolled to the bow of the _Surmising Hope_.

It was entirely different when they arrived. There gathered before it was a circle of bystanders in chatty excitement and merriment. The dappled mass of multicolored Elves cheered ardently at the two figures within the circle of the spectacle. At a closer view, the Summoner and her Guardian moved to the less crowded part of the group near the starboard side and discovered the crowds were applauding an ongoing duel. One fighter moved in with a flurry of precise slashes from her two curved daggers, but the defending opponent had the longer reach with her rapier.

------

Vanna was the aggressor of the duel with her hope lying with nimble movements and attacks.

Every motion and slice was fluidly clean. With both her blades of crafted coral, she put up a stunning display of fierce, swift strikes at Michelle's midriff. But even as her speed excelled past her opposition, the ruthless offensive of horizontal slashes was steered away by Michelle's longer rapier. Vanna drove in more aggressively to counter the advantage of the weapon's longer reach causing Michelle to plummet into a tedious defense.

The Corsan was so much more active with her legwork, making the battle span across the duel area at quick jumpy intervals. Here and there, the girl would attempt to jolt Michelle with a skilled jump-kick or catch her off guard with a duel plunge of her knives for Michelle's shoulders. But as each blow clanged onto only steel, the growingly annoyed Corsan fell into rage.

The friendly duel had spawned from a simple bout of boredom between the two women. When Vanna accepted terms with the pink-clad Michelle, she expected a quick victory over her. Already several minutes had passed and she was by then wet with sweat. It seemed her reliance on pure speed had met its match with the composed fighter of Michelle. Vanna struck with preventable flurries of attacks as the impatience to win drove over her concentration. She couldn't stand the way her partner glanced every attack, no matter how quickly coordinated, so nerveless with one hand on her waist. It was a cocky gesture on Michelle's part, and Vanna fumed at it.

A cool grin assured to Michelle she would be victorious. The fencer knew too well of her inherent skill of trickery and so she drew the Corsan in with her passive protection and parrying. Vanna was indeed a practiced combatant, one that she'd longed desperately for back on Emelan.

The Corsan, she perceived, could actually defeat her if she had went out offensively from the beginning. Michelle was a finesse fighter not suited against blatant speed, so she lured Vanna into a blinding rage.

Vanna lashed out with both daggers sweeping outwards to the side. But against this kind of attack, Michelle bounded back to avoid being disemboweled. This left Vanna shortly susceptible to regain balance once again, and so Michelle finally struck forward with a series of horizontal cuts to Vanna's neck. This sudden change to an offensive caught the Corsan of guard but she backed away or deflected each coming slash.

The sibilant cutting kept fervor as at last Michelle gained an offensive. But Vanna was equally adept at discharging counters and parries. Michelle kept coming, content and relieved that finally she could be the actor. Vanna took every slash's brunt against both edges of her blades.

Michelle hung now over the other's face as each pushed forward back onto Vanna's weapon during a recent parry. They could see the intensity inflamed in the other's eyes for the thrill of victory. The Corsan was the one to break that pause with a sudden plunging blow. Michelle was always keen though, and she slid upward to counter. She registered that Vanna's attack left her stomach open, and so she forcefully subdued her opponent with a strong knee bash to the stomach.

It was almost too harsh, but it was necessary.

Her opponent cringed and then bent over to catch her hurt stomach. But Michelle wasn't through for soon Vanna would recover; she saw it when the Corsan gripped her weapons and readied to strike unexpectedly. She allowed for the attack to come, another of Vanna's diving stabs, parrying it to the Corsan's surprise and sliding her rapier out and upward to dislodge the weapons from Vanna's grip.

The duel was won as soon as the daggers plunged stabbing into the wooden deck. Michelle took note of Vanna's shocked face with a grin before she let out a jump-kick to her stomach accompanied by a victorious "yeah!"

Vanna flew right into the crowd viewing the fight, but a man was there to grab her. When Vanna's raised her plaintive face, she stared up the slivery-clean rapier at her neck.

"Concede," Michelle said ending in a lighthearted smile. Then she replaced her extended weapon with an extended hand.

Vanna took the hand with goodwill. The duel after all was mere sport.

------

"Ari, tell me about Jecht." Lynelle's shy voice penetrated through the raucous of those around them as her Guardian's ended their fight. "Tell me about Sindar."

The question caught him off guard. "My father...his name was Jecht."

"Was he truly a king like he says?" she asked shyly.

"He was the Emperor's cousin, so yes, the King of Sindar. But wait!" Surprise splashed onto Ari's face. "How can you know this?"

Lynelle shifted demurely to face the ocean, before she threw a quick side-glance at him. "Then that's why you've become my guardian. Because your father served my father when he became a Summoner, you came to do the same."

Ari only blinked for a reaction. There was no chance that his father could be the same Jecht that guarded High Summoner Braska. He strayed into silence for several seconds, but as he appropriated a response for Lynelle, he became interrupted by another crowd gathering before the bow. Directly before the boat's path was a massive arch coming out from the water.

"It's the Sinport!" someone cried, "fetch the Black Mage, quick!"

"That's the Sinport?" Ari asked, turning to Lynelle.

"Yes. We use them to travel easily across worlds. Only Rosalyn has the power to open them."

The sultry mage, in her perfect accenting gown, pressed through the crowd easily shooing away the observers. They all had to watch as she placed her staff firmly before her, and then dive into her mind to deliver an incantation. No sooner did the crescent tip of the ivory staff begin to swell up with a black light. She had to hold forcefully the magic-loaded staff slightly longer before the spell ignited and then she reeled the instrument back and blasted the spell like a gunshot. The black globular cluster of energy cut easily through the blue air before hitting dead center the glyph on the Sinport's arch. At the impact, nothing happened, but after a delayed second, the space under the archway filled with a similar black hue to Rosalyn's spell.

A cool current swept over Ari's face as the ship passed through the Sinport's magical arch. However, other than that, the new ocean was not unlike the one he had witnessed before the ship went through the gateway; it didn't look like the ship had gone anywhere at all, except travel forward some more distance. The boy even went to search at the sky for differences in the clouds. It was indisputably clear, just as it had been before.

His head turned back to see the Sinport fading fast away from him, "I didn't find that very exciting," he told Lynelle, "everything still looks the same."

"Oh? Well, we only moved from an ocean to another ocean. Maybe the next portal will bring better exciting changes as the pilgrimage continues. This is Ison by the way." The Summoner smiled slowly, with her eyes also filling with a new reminiscence, "I'm very sure Jecht felt the same way you did when he passed with my father through here. He was a reckless man, always looking for excitement, but you know that."

Ari staggered for the words to respond. The Summoner insisted that the Jecht she knew was the same one as his father. "Lynelle, my father died when I was seven and that was over a thousand years ago," he tried to explain, "It must only be a coincidence that your father's Guardian was also named Jecht."

It had to be, but Lynelle shook her head, "No, its not, he told me he had a son, an Erressian, at about my age that he left behind in Sindar a thousand years ago." Her sweet smile reassured her Guardian, "His name was Ari."

The beautiful Summoner was concrete on her position. He could not dissuade her otherwise. It did make sense though, when he really thought about it. He was here, so why couldn't his father have also been?

The realization only came with such suddenness.

"He left us alone," Ari whispered to himself remembering well the day his father disappeared at sea, "and mom died because of him." He was certain Lynelle could see his body tighten with hate swelling over the man. "I don't see him as the great man that you do."

Lynelle moved closer to him, "Ari, he didn't mean to leave you like that," she answered, truly feeling his pain. "You didn't have the choice to be here, and he didn't either."

He flinched, and then turned away, not to let the Summoner know his eyes were beginning to water. He cried at times, even as the privilege was well out of his age constraints. It was a habit that his father had always terrorized him for, his emotional tendencies. Screams sounded from within him, but soon they became overpowered by the new screams of passengers. People were running amuck aboard the deck in a strange panic yelling at first something unclear to the Prince's ears. Then he understood what it all was about as his sights fell on the souring face of Lynelle.

"Sin." She whispered it so he would hear.

In several more tongues, the prince also heard the much-maligned name: all of them spelling out the dread that was the entity. The _Surmising Hope_'s foredeck by then packed with dismayed passenger fearing what should come of their fates. They rushed and they screamed as the boat wailed on the turning ocean waves, all while the more sensible ones bowed or descended to their knees and raised their left hands high to pray. "Holy Triad of the Goddess, the Mother, the Crystal, and the Dragonfly," enraptured with their terror, the praying bequeathed Ilumna's three forms, "we pray now for the atonement that will rid Sin, for the purity we live by to save us!"

Ari could not help but turn away from the desperate worshipers to witness the great creature. On Sindar, he had not seen it through the frenzy and hysteria running his home world, so now he hoped on finally laying sight on the elusive terror and destroyer of worlds. Its huge form crept over the ocean still far off from the ship, in a veil of poignant shadow and rushing black clouds. The ship quaked as it neared, fearful because it could not hope to escape.

------

Michelle's parasol ruptured open in a blowup of pink brocade that cut the sea air. Already its partner rapier yearned for action in its master's other hand, ready to meet Sin's projectiles storming toward the ship. The sortie of ovular pods hit the deck with monotonous thuds, not even wary of the passengers in their landing path. Quickly they scampered to unbolt the vicious creatures inside. Nevertheless, the swordfighter was ready to meet them on with enthusiasm.

The pods opened to reveal engorged maggot-like fiends that bore a single naked eye. They squirmed forth in viscous sludge with vigor to kill the scampering desperately in need for refuge. Michelle would see to this though. One lashed its entire putrid body at her, displaying its leechlike maw, but with such ease, the pink warrior slung it dead with a clean slash across it from underneath. She moved on even to fatally strike those crawling on the deck, pacifying herself with the kills and then advancing an attack on the fiends still emerging from their pods. The maggots writhed and exploded like pustules as she stuck them through, but never did the mess spoil onto her dress.

How the pink warrior danced charmingly across the ship with her parasol, the necessary shield against fiends she could not catch with her killing strikes. She was not reluctant to move beside Vanna when they closed together, for the Corsan would indeed be valuable partner if the need were refined. Together they massacred maggots, Vanna cutting with her duel knives, and Michelle piercing with her sword. Rosalyn also entered the fray with her magic ready, as did the Coeurl, Sataume, sweeping in wearing her black cowl and scythe, with the power and presence of Death.

Michelle's grey eyes easily lapsed onto Ari's fighting form on the deck level above hers. He was fending alone with Lynelle within his guard, holding at bay several of the maggot fiends. She took the opportunity to escape the group of her other Guardians to save the less experienced boy from certainly unwanted scratches. With power fueling her, she fought her way through the tussle of fiends and victimized passengers.

"Die!" she yelled viciously as her sword impaled a maggot through its single eyeball, just as it readied to pounce on Ari's appetizing flesh. Cleanly, Michelle brought it upward and threw it down to the deck where she was fighting earlier. When it was safe to notice, she could tell quite well from his fatigued countenance that the Erressian was not ready for fighting any longer. "Are you alright?" she asked with sensitivity.

The prince nodded only slightly.

His face was pale, and from it, Michelle could tell he was lying. He was nursing his left hand, the hand holding his sword, with the other around a wound most certainly caused from an unfortunate bite. The blood was still oozing from beneath the pressure. She cringed at the sight of Ari's misfortune, feeling he was a young boy needing to be looked after.

By then, the rest of the Guardians had exterminated the all the invading maggots. Michelle saw as the last one died beneath Sataume's crushing scythe. The cat killed it with a surefire grin.

Sin was the last threat to be dealt with, but it was no maggot in comparison.

Like a rapid moving storm, the clouds bearing Sin seared through the air, cutting in mere instances over the ship; proving that the _Surmising Hope_ had not been targeted at all. Something told Michelle that Sin was not passing them on a pleasurable peruse over the ocean. No, the almighty Sin had its machination set for something more tangible for its insatiable hunger to destroy. Racing on the skyline, it desired for the city of Ison far away on the horizon to die. Michelle caught the coastal town as Lynelle beside her grabbed hold of Ari's unhurt arm and pointed the Elven settlement out in a gasp.

"I'll summon!" came the determined words of Lynelle. Already she attempted to beckon her only Aeon, Seraphoris.

Below, Rosalyn shook her head; it would be a fruitless effort. "Stop it Lynelle."

There was no hope any could surmise for the people doomed to Sin's onslaught. Except of course, the hope that some would survive.

------


	4. Chapter 4: The Eternal Menace

Chapter 4: The Eternal Menace

_"There's nothing left here to remind me,_

_just the memory of your face" _

Lynelle suffered the sight of the seaside village from her distance aboard the _Surmising Hope_. Gripping at her were the voiceless pleas of the other passengers nearby to assist the Isons with their doom. But there would be no glory for the young Summoner to savor. All she could do was await the fury of Sin's destruction.

It never occurred to the citizens of Ison that the setting sun could be a signal of danger. Never would the Elves settling down after the day's usual labor suspect anything from so high above their midst.

Already enjoying the idyllic sunset, children bustled in mirth throughout the planked streets of the coastal settlement. Friends gathering heralded the onset of the night in quiet talk and reminiscence. The mottled aromas of fervently expected dinners enticed families back into their homes, never to perceive the danger until it was too late.

Stirring of the frail wooden floors finally alerted the tranquil natives as each foreboding tremor sounded alarm in each Elf's mind that something wicked was in their company. In an instant, the evening recreation let out, and panic brought the attention of all to the now roiling sky. In their minds, collected in equal trepidation, the villagers attempted to block the gathering reality. But as the blushed sheen of the sunset faded, the hearts of all collapsed into despair; the eternal menace had come.

Churning imminently overhead, black as smoke, shutting out the bleeding sunlight, Sin's massive form hovered suspended inside the recently gathered clouds.

Ison watched in horror as the phenomenal mouth of Sin swelled through its cloud barrier. The great oviform head greedy to unleash its brutal might, arrogantly gazed down on the terrified village to relish the coming of its carnage. Sin's maw engorged and then pulsated in a dazzling spectacle of amethyst light.

There was not time to bid farewell; there was nowhere to run; no escape from an unkind death; no hope.

Below, they gasped, for a final breathe and agonizing scream. Thousands of pained voices let out from the wretched throngs only to be silenced by Sin's uninterrupted and fatal descent...

It delivered the potent beam of searing energy directly into the center of the defenseless village. In one instant the once pristine and magical tropical town died, consumed in an infernal mushroom of staggering violet flames. Homes splintered and then vanished into Sin's hateful oblivion. Entire monuments of Elven splendor faltered to their very foundations. People grasping hopelessly onto loved ones for a last moment were charred into lifelessness.

Even as the blushed-lavender hellfire subsided, the anguish and pain did not remain in that only moment. Debris picked up piece-by-piece, whipping brutally into the dark sky, pulling along with it whatever bleak remnant; alive or dead. The chaotic pitter-patter grew into the deafening groan of a full-blown cyclone, driving in vigilant intensity, smothering the macabre cries of the dismayed survivors.

Sin lingered moments more until at last it pacified itself with the destruction wrought and then the gigantic entity pulled back into the hiding of its clouds. As soon as the tempest of Sin had gathered, the atmosphere settled back into its natural calm and the winds dispersed. The pieces of Ison carried off by the fearsome squalls fell back down to meet the stilling surface of the ocean.

Sin left, and went far away from the ruins...

The ruby sun still readied to lie down for the night as it came back into sight. In the silence, it shined somberly bleeding its tender rays to lament the recent horror. Those left conscious lingered in painful sorrow beneath the crimson light of the affectionate star, contending with the fate that befell them.

Everything went into an eerie silence as the _Surmising Hope_ eased into the harbor. While the boat passed along bobbing wreckage, Lynelle caught sight of a Mogg Doll forsaken to the uneven swell. It was like the one in her childhood: plush and green, with the dried _pikuru_ seeds for eyes. Already she began reminiscing of joyful experiences with her own doll, the laughter of its play and simple mellowness of childhood.

Her grip around her staff tightened as a startling realization seeped in on her. That lone child's toy shot a gripping stab of grief within her. There was nothing she could have done, nothing to prevent or even correct the devastation. The child that once found comfort in her doll had gone. And so did so many others that day.

In her mind, the terror of Sin recaptured several more times. Each time the hate for it increasing more.

Ari stood close by, but she dared not look at him. She feared that he would see her pain, the bitterness of a Summoner.

_Only_ strength and composure flourished its presence onto her features. She would always remain that way... rigid and alone in her determination. _A Summoner produces nothing else. No pain or tears, for anyone._

The _Surmising Hope_ moored itself on the solitary existing pier of the former port after sifting through a sea of waterlogged drift. Though the structure's wooden decking had certainly suffered from Sin's onslaught, its copious remains allowed for easy access for the passengers to disembark. Naturally, Lynelle was the first to be come ashore to meet with whatever had survived.

And surely, there were survivors, straggling still from the wreckage to meet the arrival. As the residual masses drew near, the Summoner immediately took upon her resilient façade. She struggled to brush away the on looking stare of her newest Guardian.

"I am the Summoner Lynelle, from Besaid Island," she spoke loudly, blotting everything but duty out, and always maintaining proper dignity.

At the announcement, there came a sigh of relief from the dismal crowd gathered at the pier. One elf, her white robes still bleached clean, stepped forward to exchange prayer bows with the Summoner. Despite the natural lilac color, her face appeared pallid from the near-death experience.

"Milady Summoner, we feared our friends would become fiends," she voiced grimly, "So their bodies were cast into the water to protect ourselves from harm."

Another Ison, a male, scampered beside the first. "Some of our friends are among the dead," his pitch still quivered from his recent tears, "please help us!"

The Summoner searched the crowd before she answered the bereaved couple. She did not look for anything in particular, but she found answers in the dour and weeping faces all around her. She did not need to be hurt herself to be pained by the wounds upon their minds and bodies. One shirtless boy was covered in bruises where his or maybe his mother's blood did not stain. Another literally crawled his way to be near the Summoner. There was so much agony on them all. They were calling innately to her, all of them like children crying for their mother to nurse them, their sorrow as their dire words.

Lynelle nodded to their earnestness. "If you may take me to dead, I may perform the Sending." It was all she could be relied on to do, but the relief was evident on the Elven faces after she spoke.

"Yes Milady." The female Ison smiled, "Come follow me." The Elf along with the male companion led Lynelle hurriedly down a wooded lane paralleling the shore. Her Guardians, Rosalyn, and Sataume stayed close by their Summoner's side, of course still wary from the attack.

------

Ari at a standstill remained on the boat even after Lynelle left. From that vantage point, he did not feel compelled to leave anytime soon. Everything in the future of Arendia he had accepted without hurt, but not this. As his aching eyes widened to take in every bit of the surrounding, the raw destruction, the mortal pain, he began to tremble in fear. The boy had expected that tagging along with Lynelle, as her Guardian would bring him back home. When Sin attacked Sindar, he awoke a thousand years later; maybe another encounter with it would act in reverse. Or so he believed. That day at sea, beneath the gory sun, his hope that Sin would return him home faded...

Unbidden to his presence, Vanna passed him to go ashore and Ari pulled himself to follow her to discourage being left alone. Very soon, trailing the listless Corsan led him to the epicenter of ruin. Little except skeletons of homes remained, assigning everything else as a desolation of mottled junk and debris and wooden wreckage. The prince was at least fortunate to come across only living people. Even as a few reticently wept in corners of sanctuary, burying their faces in their palms, the majority proved too resilient for his belief. As he tracked the same decrepit path his Summoner already had, he passed the surviving already clearing away the damage. It seemed that Sin's attack could be regular to the people's lives, not as paramount as he had reflected. Like Sin was part of an everyday routine commonplace to the Arendians.

There was so much conviction within these people. Everything was so different for him, the pain, the people, and the entire outlook on life.

He continued forward, still behind Vanna walking at her natural brisk pace. His thoughts fell again on Lynelle, her enigmatic bliss and composure. From back on the boat, he heard something about performing a sending. Again, it was another abstract term of this time, but it intrigued him so, it having to do with Lynelle.

He dared not stop to linger for anything he came upon. His focus rested solely on Lynelle and her Sending. There was a chance that perhaps, by some joyous turnout of luck; Lynelle would "send" him home.

At last, Vanna took the boy down before a littered lagoon where Lynelle and her Guardians stood near the water's edge. About her, the crowds had already amassed. Vanna continued onward to join the Summoner, but Ari did not follow. Instead, he joined with Michelle waiting uncomplainingly on a higher leveled deck away from the crowd's annoyance. His unbidden company did not stir her from an intent watch directed at the Summoner.

Hesitating only slightly, he prodded Michelle for her attention.

"What's Lynelle doing?" he asked, hoping he wouldn't be flamed for not knowing. "What is it exactly she's _sending_?"

The girl shrugged her shoulders hopelessly with a sigh. "Is there anything you _do_ remember?" Cold condescension from her grey eyes fell upon him. "Sin's poison isn't normally this potent you know?"

Ari raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I'll ask someone else." He turned to leave the pink-garbed girl.

"The dead are cursed with terrible bitterness."

He listened; she had accepted him after all.

"Even in death there is no freedom for their souls. They linger continuously on the living plane, unseen, and unheard," she explained, "It pains them that they have died so they despise the living, and their souls re-surface as fiends that prey upon us."

Ari turned to the ocean and he became conscious of the darkened shapes slumbering in the shallow water. He figured these were the lifeless forms of the dead, wrapped and embalmed in tender care by loved ones.

Shining eerily along with the dead, were the magical surly spheres of their souls.

One soul solemnly emerged from the waters beneath the decking. It passed simply through the medium, mounting to Ari's height.

Ari reached out to touch the living comet, bedazzled by the luminous sparkle of multi-coloration. Michelle intercepted with a gloved hand, gently guiding Ari's back into neutral position by his side.

"Don't touch it." Her calm voice hid her sorrowful disposition, "The cycle of death plagues Arendia," she continued, "the Sending Summoners perform guide the dead away so the living are safe from harm. The mislaid souls must rest until Atonement is fulfilled, when Sin is destroyed. Their rest does not bring them ease. It's sad isn't it?"

Sadness still gripped at the Arendians, regardless of the resilience Ari saw.

"So Summoners are very valuable then," he asked.

"They give hope that is desperately needed."

The Prince nodded that she need not speak anymore, he was complacent with her answers.

On the parallel shore, he watched as Lynelle ceased conversation with an Ison couple using the proper bow. Everyone breathed into silence as the Summoner stepped into the motionless water...

He watched morbidly astonished, as miraculously the Summoner did not plunge in. Her movements delicately smooth, she walked on the surface as if it were a solid plane to her. The ornamental staff dragged behind, wrinkling the liquid as she solemnly advanced to the heart of the aquatic entombment.

There she began to circle upon the water's surface, slowly and silently. Moments passed with only this revolving dance, sweep after sweep of her fragile body. The sun dispensed its hope upon her with its luster gracing every turn in exotic hue. Daylight did not simply spray onto her form, but absorbed well into it, the golden red hue painting her somber face, murmuring through her hair and against her moving body. This handsome and mournful dance drew the sadness from every onlooker. Ari saw it upon every face.

There was movement from underneath her. The living souls within it were being drawn to the staff spiraling in the Summoner's hand. On all sides, they glowed in eerie painted colors as they crossed beneath the water's surface to close in on her. The wind shuddered with them and ignited the flambeaux down the decked boardwalk in violet flames as it passed. The Summoner circled a last time with her dolman sleeves gliding through the ruffled air, bringing her staff high over her before the lights of Souls streamed out in masses to echo the instrument's movement. In that moment, their otherworldly power erupted and thrust the liquid bearing Lynelle upward in a gushing waterspout, carrying her meters into the sheltered air. It was a remarkable sight, her beauty radiated by the compassion of a red sunset and her resolve to end the day's pain, whilst she danced upon the wind, air, and water. With each following spiral of her delicate body, she coaxed the multitude of souls away from the sorrow of their ruined home.

A single tear cut down her cheek as she guided the final souls away from Ison. The lights glittered through the sky as they passed into the sun's exposure, fading away into the hidden stars, to rest wherever the sorrowing Summoner had sent them.

The sight of the Sending was both wonderful and terrible as the abashed Prince watched it from his perch. _How could something so wonderfully benign, a mere dance of magic, have the purpose of guiding the dead away? _It made him almost ashamed to be captivated by the Summoner's sheer majesty.

Her heralding fountain was already slowly lessening to bring her once more to the floor of the water when Ari finally caught his breath. "It must be tough to be a Summoner," he said to himself.

"Lynelle chose her own path. She knew from the beginning what it meant." Michelle answered him even without his asking. Though, never did she remove her gaze upon the Summoner. "All we can do now is protect her along the way. Until...the end."

"Until the end?" Ari did not understand. He turned to her to explain, "What's the _end_?"

The girl let out a sigh. "You're really proving to be completely clueless. By _end_ it's when she defeats Sin, Ari."

"Oh, I guess that's right--when she defeats it. Yeah. So I'm guessing you're taking this Guardian thing serious then?"

"There are certain things I'm interested in finding out about this journey. So yes." She at last turned to meet his eyes, "but those things are for me to know. Don't expect an answer when you ask."

That was the last of her words she was willing to give before walking away.

------

There was no way out of the crowd surrounding Lynelle. She'd become absorbed entirely by the waves of her thankful. On every side, people smiled and cheered, adulating "Praise to the Summoner!" in an ascending medley of their relief--that which she had given so willingly to the once wretched throngs.

_"A Summoner follows an unerring light, through victory and into destruction." _She remembered then the creed of the Fayth she admittedly followed since her days as a youth, _"With hope as the golden thread to weave her unselfish saga." _Looking out across the sky and ocean, she suddenly felt miserable with the remembrance. Her eyes wandered more, now intensely searching for Rosalyn.

When she found the Mage's soft face among the wild crowds, she rushed unbidden into her arms. She let out in a whimper for the mother figure's comfort, "I hope...I hope I did okay."

"You did very well," Rosalyn said, consoling Lynelle within her enfold. "They've reached the Resting Place by now. But...no tears next time, hmm?"

These thoughts of another Sending startled her.

She wished there would never be a next time: no more people killed by Sin and no more Sendings for her. Everyone stood there watching her. It was strange, and somehow…horrifying. She never wanted to do it again.

------

Night's darkness easily found its way over Ison when the sunset finally pulled itself into rest. As he lay in his bed, his blankets thrown off onto the floor, Ari could see the stars through the roofless inn his Summoner and the Guardians had taken to after the Sending. The natural shining candles processed as obscure sights in his mind, for never on Sindar did he pay heed to them above his gleaming cityscape. Even when traveling amid in wonderful star cruisers, they never had any significance. 

Their light fell on Ison with such peacefulness. About him, Ari could not catch the slightest sound of a villager awry, or even a glimmer of somebody's sadness. _Had all fallen asleep to forget what woe had spilled upon them that day?_ He could not believe that everyone had placed what happened aside so soon. In his own thoughts, the sunset's massacre stilled, not to be removed no matter how he tried that night.

He began counting the stars, each one becoming a soul of a different person. There were so many, but they all shared the same sky. One sky; one destiny; underneath one eternal menace—Sin.

Ari had happened into a world connected by a great terror. It saddened him. There was no relief for him to stop contemplating about the heartbreak of this world's reality. He could not sleep as long as the many thoughts of Sin existed in his mind.

He uttered into the still. "Sindar..."

Yes, the longing for his home was a grand part of his restless state. Then there was a chance his father may still be alive, as Lynelle had said, as her father's own Guardian. It made it even worse for him to find harmony.

For several hours, the Erressian prince lay there, gazing senselessly up at the innumerable lights burning in the sky. He found peace at last with their hypnotic radiance that stirred him from his encumbering thoughts. It would seem that almost anything of luminosity attracted the boy. On Sindar, it had been the flashing brightness of its towers dominating the earth and the equal brilliance of starships in the heavens. The Souls he saw throughout the Sending had been marvelous, and now the stars were as equally appealing.

There came a slight rap at the door. Almost he dismissed it as the wind, wanting to return to the stars, but remembered there had not been any that night, not since Sending.

He moved himself from the bed to answer the door, stretching his tired muscled body from the long motionlessness. When he slowly opened it, Lynelle stood alone in the dark of the hall. She was not dark herself, no; she was radiant in her moonlight-esque aura he understood that all of her fair kind embodied in the twilight. Ari was sure his face was equally radiant, him wearing only his underclothes.

He fumbled with his words, his head swooning with embarrassment. "Hi there, Lyn, um you're looking very shiny. He he."

Lynelle giggled, and not at him as Ari expected. She was in fact at ease with his complete incompetence. "I do that at night. Most of us Elves do. I think shiny things are nice."

Ari really felt comfortable now. He even forgot about his distasteful lack of clothes. Lynelle was not different from him at all, a real cheerful goofball, in her underclothes as too: a loose white swing dress.

"Whatcha' still doing awake? Aren't you tired?" he asked playfully.

Her face twisted briefly; in a pleasant way of course, "Now don't get all Rosalynish on me now. It took a long time for her to finally stop guarding my room so I could go out."

"Really? You stood up all night just to sneak in bed with me?"

"No. But I did want to ask you something."

Ari's smiling mood settled down. He looked upon her face, earnestly waiting. "And what was that?"

"Well," she trailed off somewhat, "The star _Epros_, it is in line with _Earrinel_ and _Esteril_ in what we Elves call the _Ewentrimir_. No one is in the right mood, so...I was wondering if you would like to celebrate the occasion with me."

Ari looked slightly mortified. "Er, isn't that the self-mutilation custom?" His voice had cracked.

"Oh my goddess no, that's _Adantdremor_!" She laughed into the night. "I'm not a Drow." Her hand clasped around Ari's hand that hung certainly close beside something else of his. "I promise there'll be no such thing."

Without allowing him a single utterance or even a chance to put his clothes on, the Summoner tugged Ari through the shadows of the inn. Just as him, she was barefoot. There was not a mention of either their step upon the wooden planks going outside. She guided him through the mottled but debris-less pathways of the coastal town beneath the silent herald of stars. It was very dark for Ison had no moon and only the stars served as any glimmer to those alert and about in the twilight. Through it all, Ari made out the mangled outlines of the ruin around him in the murk.

After a time, the pair remained on a walkway all to its own. There were no longer any shadows along the sides of the path, only complete night left and right, but before them raised a huge mass of sable-hued silhouettes strung across the visible horizon, higher and straighter than ever before. Try as he might, Ari could not push away the fear of approaching the wretched-looking formations. He was cold now, his body alone in his shorts desperately calling for the accompaniment of more cloth over and against it.

Ari noticed how warm the hand of Lynelle felt. He moved closer to the girl shrouded in the natural Elven ambience, to walk beside her instead of her having to spirit his weight from behind. He felt warm then, both his body and his heart, now so close that his bare skin nearly rapped against her. The ominous glow made the Summoner pale, but had no affect upon her robustness. She was delicate and long-limbed, yes, but there was not weakness on her sight.

It was something Ari knew about her by the end of the Sending. She had no weakness, except maybe the compassion that drove her through this Pilgrimage. Even in the beginning of the journey, he already understood.

The ground beneath his bare feet changed and no longer did Ari feel the firm wood below him. Grass covered earth gently sank as his steps fell onto it, the apex of moist soil faintly leaving its mark on the boy with a cool sensation. Lynelle led him right, away from the shadows that brought worry to him. She was moving him closer to something, a barefaced curve in the ground, a knoll rising from the mostly flat pasture. It was before this particular mound that the glowing Elf let go of his hand. He became much colder the moment he lost her, as she silently went to examine the grass-covered form.

Lynelle smiled from within her encasing lantern after brushing off some of the vegetation. She revealed a smooth crystal surface underneath. Eagerly she went to continue combing-out the rest of the rooted flora until the entire dome's original face shined beneath the starlight.

"This is a resting place for the Pyreflies," she whispered for Ari. "Do you remember them? They were the floating lights during the Sending." He watched as the mound started to glow, throwing its soft light on Lynelle. He waited for more of the Elf's explanation.

"When a body dies, it releases many lights; pyreflies. Only the light of a person's Soul is sent away to rest, because they are dangerous among the living. Those remaining, the light of memories, of pain and sorrow stay behind. Places like these mounds are built as altars to them because they are precious and deserve respect. Sometimes, we can beckon the memories, to show us things: glimpses of what cannot normally be seen. That is of course, when the stars are right."

The illumination from within the sphere awed the Prince, his eyes twinkling with the white of stars. "What is it that I shall see?" He asked, the desire in his voice trailing into the night.

"There is never a certainty. Together we will see different things, whatever the memories desire," she responded in her sweetness and softness. With a silent call of magic, the Elf gathered her Summoner's staff into her hand. "Let us beckon their powers. Now say it as I, _Idin anorith aiel o amal ramamir_!"

Ari repeated her Elven words as best he could. _"Idin-anorith-aiel-o-amal-ramamir._" Lynelle smiled as he finished and drew the staff toward the three brightest stars aligned across the sky.

Now, suddenly the intricate web of flat gold circles ornamenting the crown of the blue-handled rod began to shimmer. It dazzled in burning bright white, flecks of embers searing from the adornment like a sparkler. Lynelle then directed the instrument downward, targeting the mound with what appeared to Ari, the gathered light of _Epros_, _Earrinel_, and _Esteril_. Even more so than before, the trio of celestial lights burned in the plane of midnight.

When she willed it, the light she had contained by her staff shot out in a thin unwavering stream. The radiance moved quickly into the crystal dome to be absorbed by it. Shapes formed within the glass-like form, Ari could catch them, moving at first in a dense fog, and then finally separating into their own individual forms. As they did for the Summoner during the Sending, the brightly lit spheres burst in a fountain out of the place of their rest. The Elf and the Prince were surrounded, engulfed by the whirling orchestra of firefly lights. Most certainly, these oddities were sentient for they danced in and out of the Summoner's hair and legs. She was laughing delightedly, glowing, and holding her staff by the ground.

"Let us find the right one, and together we will grasp it," she said. A smile folded from her lips. "There it is! That's the one!"

Ari had already achieved sight of the wonderful orb certainly larger than the others were. It slumped upward in the air, rising pompously to their level. Together they reached for it; only for a moment did their fingers entwine and eyes meet before the pyrefly gunshot them from reality...

He supposed he was alone when dark completely enshrouded his body. There was no trace of stars above him or grim shadows in the exterior or even the bright lights of Pyreflies anymore. His eyes were completely open; he was just somewhere where nothing existed.

The ground felt smooth, maybe of glass or crystal, but he could not see it. It was chillingly cold, but there was not a wind. Even his voice could not find a way out into the emptiness around him.

He hung there alone for moments incalculable. Then he heard a loud voice.

_"Don't be afraid. You're in the right place." _

He heard the child-like voice everywhere around him. It was though he had heard it before.

_"There are no shadows here that can harm you, for all is dark. It is what we have lived in for all this time: darkness." _

Ari looked down to find his hands; they were not there as he searched. He did not even part his lips, but he heard his voice come from all around him. The words were coming from elsewhere, maybe from within him, because he felt warmed as he listened to himself:

"Where are you? Are you the ones who brought me here?"

_"We are those who you are familiar with. But then you have never known us." _

"What does that mean? Let me see you now."

_"Only our voices are allowed to exist, but even they are not a reality. As you continue to journey across Arendia will you be able to recover the pieces of us, and see more." _

"I'm confused. I want to know more now."

_"There is no more until you bring the light. However, the closer you are to light, the greater the shadow becomes. There are no shadows here. Only darkness."_

As the child-like voice faded into nothing, a sudden spasm of air swept across Ari's body. The severe darkness was lessening. Once more, he could make out forms and shadings of the mass of towers to his left and the bump of the dome crystal directly in front. Gradually the geyser of lighted orbs flowed into existence yet again.

Now he was very tired. He did not even ponder where Lynelle was at that time. He fell back onto the tenderly covered ground with little mind to spare. For almost immediately, he had fallen deep into the Elven night's star-studded embrace.

------

Aramis's body awoke with an inviting sensation quite easily expected for a boy of his age to have when his unconsciousness holds the image of one particular Summoner. He felt of such delight remembering the girl, exposed to the divine open air, his bare body sprawled out on the grass for any to see. He was an unmindful (and shameful) teen having neither the decency nor the clairvoyance to understand there was indeed someone there to see.

Michelle (in full wardrobe) hovered over the boy, disgusted with the tactless smile on his face. "This is pure indignation, you know that? All our statuses will be ruined by your folly," she said. "It's a blessing that I found you before you could."

His eyes peeled open at the awakening sound, "Huh? What?" Startled, he scampered to cover himself, chuckling embarrassedly. "Eh, hey there Michelle."

"What do you think you're doing here?" Her voice sounded as though a dog had barked it out.

Ari shivered. "I was up last night and I fell asleep. What are you doing here?"

She sighed with all her breath and rolled her eyes. "The Pilgrimage! Did you forget about that? Now put your clothes on! Here." She threw him a bright glowing Sphere. Ari examined it closely, not understanding.

"What's this?" he said.

"Well, I wouldn't expect you to know this one--I didn't. It's a Dressphere. Rosalyn made it to hold all our garments and supplies for the journey. How else do you suppose Lynelle can go about and change her clothes without holding a single bag? It's quite handy. So do you like my new dress? I bought it from the merchant aboard the ship."

It was funny that Michelle's irritation went down with the subject of her clothes. She wore a dainty pink blouse spruced with thin lace, all with a mini-skirt of sherbet hue. Her boots were higher now, somewhere above the knees, and she had lost the white cape.

"Yeah, it's very pretty—and pink," he said. "So how do I work this thing?"

Michelle did not need to explain to the boy fumbling the crystal ball. Sensing a mental command was all what sphere needed; it was the wonder of Rosalyn's magic. Suddenly great rippling ribbons of green energy spiraled around Ari's body, dazzling her eyes. The Prince held out his arms, and the streamers twirled around them. A moment later, the strands encased him like a mummy, then after mere seconds, they shimmered away, leaving him behind dressed in his usual outfit.


End file.
